Master Mirror
by The Serpent Prince
Summary: What if the Mirror of Erised was more than a cursed artifact? When Harry is offered a Faustian Pact that seemingly offers to fix all his problems he does not even think twice before taking it. Voldemort, Death Eater plots, and a dying wizard. Will Harry and Dumbledore manage fix everything before the time is up? A dark adventure across an AU HBP, following a trail thought long lost
1. Prologue

**Author notes: Okay, first of all, lesson learned about uploading chapters when I'm too tired to go over them and look up editing problems and typos! I've updated both the prologue and the first chapter. A lot of italics got lost when I uploaded them, and they add to the atmosphere, not to mention that all thoughts are in italic. If you still notice any grammatical errors, point them out to me. English isn't my first language. Oh, and before we start, mandatory disclaimer that I do not own neither Harry Potter nor The Witcher IPs. I'm only posting this for fun, and I hope you will like it. **

_**995 AD, Bavaria**_

"I wish we could do more." said the old man.

"We did all that was possible."

The old man fidgeted his reddish wand while taking in his surroundings. To one that did not know him, his posture might have come across as merely cautious, perhaps even bored and most surely calm. To one that _did_ know him however, such gestures and stiffness meant only one thing. The man was_ scared_. And that was surely something none of his friends or acquaintances were used to seeing from him. Oh, sure, he has been worried before. He has been scared _for others_ before. But when faced with situations that would strike panic in most others, he merely let out a slew of curses (the more perilous the situation, the more languages he would use to curse in), take a deep breath, and then go into a careful planning mode, assessing his options. He never truly felt _fear_ before. Not in his youth, and most surely not in his later years. Between him and his brother in all but blood, there was nothing the world threw at him which they could not tackle. And to quote his brother, _they did so in style_. He absently drew his finger over his right forearm, where even decades later, his skin did not fully recover from that dragon's fiery breath. One of the many such testaments to his adventures. He always smiled when tracing the figure of one of his scars, remembering the good old days when he and his brother would travel across Britannia and face evil Goblins, dragons, trolls, Witch hunters and other such perils. It was a testament of his current mood that he was not even aware that he was tracing his scar, his eyes remaining fixated upon the heavy darkness that seemed to spread as a veil only a few meters away from him and his companion. It was odd. He has traveled that forest many times before. Taken in its trees, its springs, its creatures, and many forgotten trails. He has always found it calming. Soothing. Beautiful. Now however, it seemed… _evil_. As if the darkness itself was not mere darkness, but a sinister demon, spreading itself like a veil over the trees. Seeping through their cracks and twisting them. Poisoning them. They all seemed ugly now. Tainted, and unnatural. The whole forest seemed like one malevolent being, whispering. Sometimes, he even had the feeling he caught glimpses of its words, and how malicious they seemed! As if the forest knew something they did not, and was laughing at how deeply into its grasp the two wizards were going.

_This is just my imagination. This is not real!_

As if reading his mind and wanting to prove just how real everything was, some branches let out a weird crackling noise, to which he immediately reacted by strengthening his grip on his wand and pointing it towards the source of the noise. If one asked him later, he could not, even through the most advanced methods of Occlumency, recall what spell he thought of, but what was clear was that a jet of orange light with feint, dark green inflections darted out of his wand, making a screeching sound into the complete silence of the night and disappearing once it hit the guilty branch, severing it from the tree and tearing it to shreds. When he saw his victim was but a simple branch, he lowered his wand and let out a breath, disappointed in his own lack of composure. A few steps ahead of him, his companion stopped and turned towards him.

"We must hurry. We should finish by midnight."

The old man turned towards him, wand still in his hand. Even though he knew this man for almost a year now, he still felt a small revulsion each time he looked at him. He was well traveled, and the gods allowed him to see more things in his life than any Wizard or Muggle of that time, but never has he felt more uncomfortable than when he was in… _his_ presence. The wizard in front of him peered back at him, the white light from his Lumos spell making his eerie features even more uncomfortable. His large, white eyes felt dead, and made him look either blind, or like a very well glamored Inferius. His olive skin was smooth, with the exceptions of his eyes, where he had the beginnings of a few wrinkles. The man lacked eyebrows, which was perhaps what added the most to his bizarre look. In fact, he seemed to lack any kind of hair on his body. He had thin lips, and looked like a very frail man, even though, by outward appearance alone, he could not have been more than fifty years old. His wand was strange also. Like a square stick, with some strange runes the old man could not properly place, but which he was pretty sure were etched in blood. It was suspiciously short, and if he was to hazard a guess, the wood was cedar. The… _man_ simply stood there, his large eyes fixated on his companion and waiting for him to regain his wits.

"We must hurry" he repeated in the same ethereal tone, as if his voice came from great distance.

The old man took one more look at the tall trees around him, before giving a short nod to his companion and signaling him to continue. They went on in silence, and he noticed yet another odd feature to their little midnight stroll. _The silence_. This forest was usually filled with life! Even a few magical animals dwell here! Yet now, everything seemed… dead. He was no stranger to death. He has walked across plenty of battlefields, taking in the pools of blood, the butchered bodies and the barrenness of a scorched field. This forest did not feel like that. It felt… _hollow_. Empty of all that was familiar and comforting. He has faced evil before. This felt so much more. Deeper. Hungry. Alien. Yes. It was fair to say that for the first time in his life, he was absolutely _terrified_. And that fact alone made him almost as scared as the forest did so in the first place.

"Are you truly sure we could not do more?" he asked more to comfort himself with a noise, rather than wanting to engage his companion in conversation. If the other man realized that or not, he did not show it, rather he answered in his dead and apathetic tone.

"I have told you. Containing it was the most we could do."

He felt slightly irritated. Yes, he always_ said_ that actually destroying it was impossible, but never had the common decency to actually begin explaining why! But then again, it was a battle of quite some proportion to rip out even the most basic explanations out of the man in front of him, who surely appeared to be a believer in _less is more_. The old man was not the most talkative of persons either, but this was just ridiculous! He straightened his dark, green robes, taking the brief moment to compose himself, before replying.

"I have yet to encounter anything that could not be destroyed if you blast enough power at it. We have it trapped! We should hold onto it and figure out a way to destroy it!"

The man stopped dead in his tracks and looked back at his companion. His face betrays no emotion, and the old man was proud of himself that he did not flinch at the sight in front of him.

"You were supposed to be the most sensible one, Salazar. Even now, you are feeling it's evil. _It_ is seeping in the trees. It is digging in the dirt. _It_ is suffocating the air. _It_ tries to release itself. Surely, you are sensing it."

Salazar Slytherin looked around at the impenetrable darkness which seemed to move ever bit so closer to him in the fractions of a second it took him to blink. With a lazy flick of his wand, he cast a silent Lumos as well, then turned towards his companion. Green eyes met white ones, and he gave a reproachful look, as if the mere questioning of his common sense was an affront. He enjoyed the playful banter with his brother, Godric Gryffindor, but he did not like the idea of accepting even the tiniest display of insolence from some eccentric… _whatever_ this man was! Once more he made a mental note of the fact that he failed to place the strange accent his companion had.

"I am merely saying! _It_ is clearly nothing Wizardkind has any proper knowledge on! I find the idea of dropping it off and leaving it to chance too much of a gamble! Someone will find it! Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or even the next century, but some day, someone will find it!_ Surely, you are seeing it!_"

The last sentence he spoke was in Parseltongue, the language of serpents. The language which so very few wizards and witches in Europe could speak. It was something he took great pride in, and even performed many rituals to ensure that he binds such a precious gift to his very blood, passing it down to any that will have him as his ancestor. It was not the first time he tried to test whether or not his companion also carried _The Gift_, or _The Noble Tongue_, as Parseltongue was sometimes referred as, but he never managed to get a conclusive answer to that question. The man never actually answered to it, but Salazar always had the impression that he, at the very least, understood it, if not fully spoke it. It was hard to tell, since he simply never seemed to display any emotion, either on his face, nor in his voice. What a mystery this man was! And one that put Salazar on edge, more than spur his curiosity.

"Even if that happens, and it is found, _It_ won't know how to untangle the wards you and I placed on the cage. The only loss will be whoever is foolish enough to stare at _It_ for long enough for their mind to be overtaken. And you placed no short amount of fail safes in Parseltongue. _It_ would take another Speaker to untangle them. Given that there are less than one hundred carriers of your ability on the continent at any given time, it makes it quite a long shot for one to be ensnared by our little friend here."

Salazar looked at the black cloth that his companion held, and quickly averted his gaze. He knew it was silly, that it took direct contact for the blasted thing to pose any threat, but once he actually faced it, his faith in the skimpy cloth vanished.

"Well… I still don't like this. I think there are more remote places we could hide it. But fine, let's get this over with!"

His companion tilted his head strangely, in what Slytherin only assumed was a nod, before turning his back to him and continuing his journey to the heart of the woods. Salazar silently let out a _Beacon Charm_, a rather handy bit of Parselmagic that send a message to any nearby snake or serpent of any kind, calling it towards the caster. The spell was only visible as flashes of green ripples in the white orb of the Lumos spell he was holding on the tip of his wand. He kept the beacon up for over five minutes, his face growing increasingly concerned at the complete lack of response he got. He _knew_ that forest. He _knew_ there were quite a few snakes there, by the gods, he _talked_ to them! It was eerie enough that he had to deal with the pressing feeling that life itself had been ripped out of the forest, but seeing some actual evidence of it was outright alarming. His gaze fixated on the package his companion was carrying, then slowly moved on the rather bizarre ring he was wearing. He suspected there was more at play here than he knew, but the deed had to be done. As he felt a chill ran down his spine while contemplating the man in front of him, he tightened his grip on his wand. He may have been an old man now, but he was still the most skilled fighter in Europe. He felt a small smile cross his face when he imagined the indignant face Godric would have made if he heard his previous thought. He sure would have enjoyed his sword and dry humor next to him at the moment.

"The Beacon isn't working."

"Animals sense _it_ too. They must be too afraid to come near us at the moment."

Salazar let out a small curse in Parseltongue as he looked at the man in front of him, then spoke, annoyance clear in his voice.

"I hope we won't be turning this forest into a wasteland!"

"No… Though, I find it interesting that you would be offended by the sacrifice of one forest for the sake of finally getting rid of It."

Slytherin instinctively grasped his gold necklace in his hand. It had an emerald serpent on one side and a tree on the other. A gift from his father, one he received oh so many years ago, in his youth. When he first left his village and went on the road with Godric, at the behest of the King of Camelot.

"Idiot Muggles only see value in nature if they can exploit it. Wizards should know better."

The man let out a short sound, with no telling if he agreed or not, and for a while they continued their journey in silence.

"Your daughter married, didn't she?"

Salazar was initially thrown off balance by seemingly random and casual question but then his thoughts quickly turned into annoyance when he remembered his new son-in-law.

"Yes" he said, trying to conceal his feelings. The slightly prolonged s at the end of the word was testament of his failure, as such a Parseltongue inflection in regular speech only took place when a Speaker experienced strong emotion. "Good boy, I suppose. _Eógan Gaunt_. Decent enough family from Ireland. I just wish he took more heed of the _old ways_." Salazar decided not to go into how he would wring the boy's neck when he started talking about the benefits of so-called Frankish _culture_, nor how he almost had an apoplexy when he found out the boy barely spoke Gaelic at all! At least his daughter loved him, and he clearly loved her in return.

In front of him, the man let out one of those bizarre sounds which Slytherin could only assume was supposed to be a laugh. An eerie, emotionless laugh which only send shivers down his spine.

"You may _not_ have noticed Salazar, but the ways of the Druids have been on the outs for centuries now. I reckon you are the last of what's left of their ancient religion."

_And with me, it will all die_, he thought bitterly. Millennia of heritage, of hopes, dreams, accomplishments and failures, all that the old Celts accomplished, it was all ending with him. He tried teaching his children as much as he could, but his daughter never was all that interested in learning the beauty and intricacies of such ancient Magic. It broke his heart every time he thought about it. At least she was quite dedicated to learning Parselmagic, which she always found fascinating. If his own family was indicative of things, Salazar reckoned it would take about two generations before the Gaunts would use Parseltongue as a native language among themselves. Slytherins always did, and even in his old age, he still retained an accent. A weird mixture of Gaelic and Parseltongue accents riddled his Latin and Old English. He felt his chest tighten as these thoughts inevitably led him to his son. His beloved_ fool_ of a son. The young boy that took to heart every lesson Salazar had to teach. The boy that looked with such wonder at every bit of Magic he saw, and whose wonder at seeing it never diminished even as he aged. He aged, and then he died. How ironic, the son of a man so known for his composure and common sense, dead because he could not handle his own emotions. _Itzal_. Poor young fool, _Itzal Slytherin_. How much the boy loved learning of the old Druid ways, and how much he admired his father, wanting to grow up to be just like him. And yet he died so young, in his twenties. And to make his tragedy worse, he took with him the daughter of one of his best friends as well. Little _Helena Ravenclaw_. How fondly he remembered holding her on his knees while he summoned various birds and faeries made of pure light to dance around her. She would laugh for hours, stretching her little hands towards them. Neither he nor Rowena ever recovered when their two children died, one at the hand of another. And it was like all the joy and enthusiasm they had while building their beloved school died with those two. Both Godric and Helga saw this, and both struggled to support their friends as best they could. Godric was especially shaken himself, as the bond he had with Salazar was one stronger than most had even among their own family, and losing Itzal felt like losing his own son.

"I hear there is trouble in Britannia?"

Salazar knew the man simply tried to redirect his thoughts. He tightened his Occlumency shields and looked up, rather suspiciously.

"Hogwarts business does not concern you! It's between me and Godric!"

The man stopped and looked back over his shoulder, his white dead eyes peering right into Salazar. But for the first time that night, Slytherin did not flinch, nor fear. How dare this fool pry his abnormal nose into his disagreement with his brother?! In that silent forest, the old Celt looked every bit like the most renowned and feared wizard in Europe, his green eyes dripping with venom and wand pointed toward his companion. Companion which, remained silent and still for a moment, before slowly bowing his head and speaking.

"I meant no offence, Salazar. I was speaking of Avalon."

_Ah_. Yet another element of great disturbance to the old wizard. Trouble was brewing in the old kingdom. The last kingdom ruled by Wizardkind where Muggles and Wizards lived together in the open, and were quite aware of one another. _The Most_ _Ancient and Noble House of Pendragon_ took great pride in being the last Magicals to rule in such manner. The succession crisis was imminent, and knowing that two of his best students and personal apprentices were poised to fight one another, unless things changed drastically and fast, was quite heartbreaking for Salazar. _Merlin_ and _Morgana_ were by far the best Magicals he ever saw, and was sure both were going to surpass him once they reached the peak of their lives. He was quite glad that Godric's abomination of a Hat declared both of them to become his students. He was never a fan of that whole sorting compromise. They did well without it, for a few years Hogwarts functioning perfectly fine without that foolish house system. And if Godric were not so stubborn and saw the benefits of Salazar's reasoning, it would have continued so. But alas, now was not the time for that.

"The king demoted Morgana from succession. Plans to leave the throne to that _boy_, Arthur."

The man pondered over that bit of information, before continuing his query.

"The estranged Squib son? I see the prodigal heir's return made quite a mess of things."

"Quite indeed. Merlin has taken quite a liking to him. And he rounded up a small clique in Hogwarts that supports him. Mostly Gryffindor boys from important families. Some of my Serpents seem to be in on it as well. Morgana… she… We shall see what she will do next, I suppose."

How it pained him to see his beloved school turned into a recruiting ground for his two favorite students to smite against one another. If it was his call alone, he would have expelled all involved and locked them up in a tower until they sort out their petty squabbles. Pay a visit to that insolent Pendragon in Camelot too, show him what the true meaning of power was. But both Helga and Rowena thought it sets a bad precedent to expel them for their beliefs, as they technically did not break any school rules. And Godric's family name carried a lot of weight in Camelot, so drawing the ire of so many families by expelling their scions was not something we was eager to do.

"Is the boy… adequate?"

"I only met him briefly. Merlin likes him, as I said, so I assume he must be. I'd say he overcompensates a bit, trying to pander as much as he can to Magicals, so we forget he is but a _Squib_."

He did not mention how he thought Morgana should have been the next Queen, as the entire kingdom thought, and the girl herself was told since birth. The man in front of him had no business in knowing Salazar's inner feelings.

The two walked a little more, until they reached a small clearing in the forest. The man turned around to face Salazar, whose heart was beating faster and faster, and tilted his head in his usual manner. Slytherin's green eyes narrowed on the concealed object, before taking a step back and pointing his wand at the ground and slowly turning his wrist clockwise. In that moment a large pile of dirt rose in the air and the wizard gently moved it to his side, leaving in its wake a deep hole in the ground. He pointed his wand towards it, increasing the power of his Lumos by a little bit, and yet still not seeing the bottom. He looked up at his companion and signaled him to proceed. He pointed his short wand at the package he was carrying with his other hand and levitated in the air above the new made pit, while Slytherin pointed his and cancelled the Shrinking Charm his companion placed on it. The moment the spell was gone they both felt a ripple in the air, as if someone punched the very fabric of reality so hard that everything around them vibrated and now needed some moments to rearrange itself back to normal. The wizards almost lost control of their spells, and took all their power and control to maintain control over themselves. Salazar felt like he wanted to vomit, and his knees started to shake. How he wanted to blast that damned thing to bits, but he knew it would have done no good. It was inside of it, not the actual object. Destroying it would have only set it free once more. The two wizards eyed the now large rectangle shape and nodded at one another. In the next moment, they both released their spells, and the lifeless object fell in the pit. The wizards quickly took a few steps back, as if expecting some great monster to drag itself out of the grave-like pit and attack them. Not waiting a second more, Salazar pointed his wand at the pile of dirt at his side and levitated it back into the hole, filling it right back up. He then conjured a thick layer of grass over it, to fully mask it, but much to his dismay, his conjuration _vanished_ the second he released pushing out his magic. He frowned and tried again, but the same strange occurrence happened again. _This was not good! This was not good at all!_ Have their wards not been strong enough? He looked up at his companion, which seemed to share the same dilemma. For the first time since he met him, Slytherin finally read an emotion on him. And it was _concern_!

"Don't tell me It broke out!"

The man paused and holstered his weird wand in a leather scabbard, before looking up.

"No… We… we definitely would have known if our wards fell. That _fiend_ would have attacked us for sure. But it seems like his evil won't allow life to grow over the cage."

Salazar appeared thoughtful and kept his wand at a ready.

"That blasted mirror is one of the most dangerous magical artifacts in the world right now."

The companion tilted his head in agreement.

"It would be best if it remains lost forever. And may the Fates have mercy on whoever gazes into it for too long."

"More like, may the Fates have mercy on us, for what will be released is pure evil!"

"It will show what one desires the most. Trust me, Salazar. He is nothing if not persuasive. Let us hope the mirror we trapped him in remains forever lost."

Slytherin nodded.

"Let us hope. And at the very least, I hope it will never worm its way into Hogwarts. Its lures would be all too easy a trap to fall in for a child."

The two remained silent for a moment, looking at the dead spot on the ground, and then the companion looked up once more.

"I am truly grateful to you, Salazar. Ridding the world of that fiend has been one of the very few failures me and my brothers have ever faced. It will be a great relief to them to hear the deed has been done."

"Well, I am surely pleased I managed to help, though I wish we could have learned more about this whole thing."

And then, the man did something the wizard never seen him do before, nor thought him capable of doing. He shook his head in the most normal and human way possible. It was telling how bizarre he was if such a normal gesture made that much of an impression on Slytherin.

"No, Salazar. Some things are better off never known."

The wizard nodded tiredly, clearly not agreeing, but not wanting to go over that argument again.

"So, what now?" he asked.

"Now, we part ways. But rest assured, we shall meet before long. My brothers and I intend to travel once more. We have set our gaze towards Britannia. I trust we will find you in good health once we arrive. I know my brothers are eager to meet you after the tales I told them of the last of the Druids, Founder of Hogwarts and Speaker of the Noble Tongue."

Slytherin fixed the man with a stare that could have made flowers wither, while he spoke his next words with unhidden venom.

"I do wonder what will it be this time, _Cadmus_."

The man by the name of Cadmus remained unresponsive, before speaking slowly.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, I think you know what I mean, _Cadmus Pevelrich_. Or should I call you _Pavarallio_? Or is it _Al-Bawareel_? _Pavarios_? Tell me, _Cadmus_, do you ever lose track of your own lies, or do they all come natural to you? I was merely wondering what name you will take this time. You seem to change them every few centuries or so."

Cadmus did not even need to display any emotion. Slytherin knew he surprised him. What he did not know was how the man will react. The Celt silently performed the Beacon Charm, and this time, the ripples of the spell's magic returned to him with more answers than he hoped for. He sensed through his wand the snakes of the forest hurrying to him, ready to aid him in battle. He pointed his reddish wand at Pevelrich, ready to fire a barrage of spells. But the eerie wizard remained unmoved, even as a small army of snakes started surrounding him, all hissing at once. Slytherin's wand started to glow a sickly, yellowish light at its tip, some powerful curse clearly ready to be fired the moment he so willed it. But Pevelrich only tilted his head in his annoyingly strange fashion and spoke.

"Always too smart for your own good, Salazar."

The wizard grinned and made a subtle gesture with his head.

"They'll put that on my tombstone. So, what will it be?"

"_Peverell_. Cadmus Peverell. That is how we shall be named. I am not your enemy, Salazar. Nor are my brothers. We do not seek to stir any trouble in your home."

"What do you want in Britannia then? _What_ are you, Cadmus Peverell?! Why are there mentions of you and your creepy brothers dating more than _two thousand years_ back?!"

His Parseltongue started slipping more and more into his speech, while the man in front of him looked wholly unperturbed.

"We… simply _are_, Salazar." Cadmus sighed, deep in thought. "We shall speak more on this once we meet again, in Britannia. You have… impressed me. I will have something for you, before it's over."

"Speak plainly! Before what's over?! And whatever you want to give me, I want nothing from you!"

Cadmus grinned, for the first time since Slytherin met him, he actually grinned!

"_They_ will need safekeeping before one of our blood regains them all. You _will_ accept this gift, Salazar, trust me." He glanced at his ring, his gold ring with a strange, pitch black stone attached to it. "And speaking of safekeeping. Do not ward this place. Magic leaves traces. This place must be as unremarkable as possible. The mirror draws enough attention as it is. Let it get lost. We have done our part."

Slytherin had enough of idle chatter and was about to fire a restraining spell when Cadmus Apparated away from the forest with a loud noise. Salazar let out a few creative insults and lowered his wand, pinching the bridge of his nose, his thoughts alternating between Cadmus and that blasted mirror they buried. At least he found some solace in the irony of sealing Master Mirror in an actual mirror. He was not going to let this whole situation drop, however. Something was off about the Peverell Brothers, or whatever their name was. And he was going to discover it. With one last look around, Salazar Slytherin Apparated away from that accursed place, hoping that the mirror will forever remain lost.


	2. I show not your face

**Author notes: Same as with the Prologue, I went over this trying to iron out all the problems. Italics for thoughts and enhancing the atmosphere are back, and I hope I got rid of all typos. Not gonna bother going over the disclaimer again, I obviously haven't bought the rights for neither Harry Potter or the Witcher. The next update will be within a week.**

_**1270 AD, Bavaria**_

The two men were walking as slowly as possible over the fallen leaves, careful not to make any noise. The older one took a glance towards the younger boy and winked, while smiling, then signaled him to look ahead. They both saw them. Two beautiful, brown deer gently grazing the ground, looking for something still green to eat. The men in blue, long, coats drew their bows from behind the thick trees they were hiding and dashed from their cover, both taking aim.

The deer made a short noise and quickly raised their heads, but it was too late. The older man's arrow hit its target right in the head, the poor creature only leaving out a chocked scream before falling on the ground. The younger one, on the other hand, clearly was not favored by fortunes that day, as he only managed to hit the lower part of the neck, his deer screaming and darting away as fast as it could, lifting many of the dead leaves from the ground. The boy hunched his shoulders and groaned, clearly disappointed he missed. The older man laughed and playfully swatted him on his arm, while he turned towards him and rolled his eyes.

"I'm glad you are entertained, father."

"What was it you said, _50 groschen says I am faster than you_? I suppose you did spook that poor creature faster; I'll give you that!"

The young man only nodded his head in disapproval and whistled loudly, four black hounds appearing out of nowhere from behind him and running by him, so close that he almost lost balance. The blue-eyed boy watched over them as they disappeared through the trees, then turned towards his father, which in the meantime retrieved his arrow and knelt next to the downed animal, inspecting his catch. The son looked walked next to him, merely tapping him on his shoulder and passing him by. His father looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, slowly stroking his beard.

"C'mon, father, let's see if the dogs chased down that deer!"

He sped up his pace and went in the direction of his hounds, while the father stood up and only raised his arm with his bow, scouring the distance. A few moments later, he heard a loud shout in acknowledgement and heard the hoofs of his servants' horses nearing him. With that, the man went in pursuit as well. He heard the dogs giving chase somewhere in the distance, their barks increasingly fainter, and his son running through branches and bushes, in pursuit of them.

The man ran through the woods, slowly starting to breathe increasingly heavier, and taking short stops to catch his breath. After one such stop, when he was just starting to resume his run, he was brought to a halt, and could only frown, focusing on his hearing. He turned his head towards the noise. And then once more, in the exact opposite direction! Where he heard… _precisely the same thing_?

_"Mein Gott…"_

He stopped and took on a defensive stance, looking around at the seemingly harmless trees. This could not be possible! He thrust a finger in his ears, and yawned as hard as he could, trying to fix his hearing, but the strange thing still happened! No matter in which direction he turned, he kept hearing the same thing! The muffled barks of his dogs, and his son tearing through the lower branches of trees! Suddenly, one of the barks seemed so loud as if the hound was right at his ear! He screamed and quickly turned a few steps back, instinctively pulling out his arming sword and swinging it in the direction of the scream, but seeing _nothing!_ He held the hilt tighter, and scanned the area. His heart was beating increasingly faster, and he could not tell if it was just his imagination or if the surrounding noise was not actually increasingly louder.

"Konrad! Where are you?"

He felt foolish for his weakness, but something in him kept preventing him from dropping his sword and moving. It was as if he completely lost control of his body, while the chasing dogs around him continued their run undisturbed. And yet he could not see them anywhere! And then he noticed the other thing. The complete and utter _silence_ of the forest. Other than the strange noise, he could hear nothing else! No humming of birds, no wind moving through trees, not his nearby servants, nothing!

Everything is so… _still_! That's what he thought as he looked around, growing increasingly worried if perhaps he was not losing his mind. Not only he could not hear anything besides the chase, but nothing even _moved_ anymore! The trees were perfectly still! Nothing in his line of sight made even the tiniest move! The old Count Sigbot von Falkenstein rubbed his face and called for his son a few more times, all while keeping his sword ready. Why was he so afraid? What could have possibly been so terrifying that it made every bone in his body rattle? He looked around and saw only the most normal forest scenery one could imagine. And yet those trees. They were not… _normal_. And those blasted sounds!

_Wait a minute, he thought. The sounds. They are repeating themselves!_

"Oh, God. Oh, God, this is not good!"

Sigbot quickly took out the gold crucifix he carried around his neck and grasped his sword even tighter. That damned echo he kept hearing wasn't as constant as he thought. It was only a couple of seconds, which went on a loop. A terrible loop that seemed to worm its way into his very skull, entrancing his mind. An increasing feeling of dread started overtaking him. As if something was ready to appear from behind a tree and pounce on him. Or perhaps the trees themselves shall pounce on him! Were the trees alive?

_Did I hear them whisper?! The forest will kill me!_

"Father!"

Hearing his son's voice seemed to have broken the Count out from whatever trance had overtaken him. He dropped his sword on the ground and staggered a few steps back, taking a deep breath and clutching his head with his hands. It was over! Whatever that had been, it was over. He looked around and no longer felt any dread at the sight of the forest. Everything seemed to be in order once more.

"Father, come!"

He looked in the direction of his son's cry and picked up his sword, sheathing it at his belt. Although safe, he was still shaking, and the more he thought about what happened to him, the fuzzier the memory of the event seemed. It was almost as if he was trying to recount a childhood dream which he wasn't even sure happened anymore. He shook his head, trying to regain his composure, and then took off towards his son.

He found the young man leaning on the trunk of a tree, holding onto his leather belt and surrounded by a most infernal noise. Sigbot could not even begin the imagine what could have made his hounds bark and howl and behave as if possessed, but it was certain his son did not even attempt to deal with the situation. For a brief moment, the Count felt a pang of fear in his chest, wondering if the dog's behavior and his own experience from earlier were not connected. The man neared his son and eyed him carefully. The boy was frowning, looking at the dogs and not making a single move.

"Konrad, am I glad to have found you..."

"They've been at it for almost an hour."

The boy spoke softly, evidently concerned. But his words brought his father to an immediate halt? _An hour?_ The two split up less than ten minutes ago, fifteen at most! This was impossible! Surely, this must have been a joke of some kind. Yet, the more the Count tried to convince himself of that, the more his dread seemed to return._ I will die._

"I sent everyone to spread out and look for you. Where have you been?"

_Where the Hell has he been? What happened to him? And why did he kept having the feeling they were watched?!_

"I… I must have gotten lost. What are you doing? What's with the dogs?"

Konrad gestured with his head towards the four black hounds, who by now were foaming at their mouths. They were barking and looked as if they wanted to rip something to shreds. Sigbot frowned and followed their gaze. His son's downed deer was right there, seeming to have eventually succumbed to its wound, if the pool of blood underneath it was any indicator. But something else drew his attention. The old man frowned and gently pulled on his beard as he took a few steps away from his son, surrounding the scene. They were in a clearing, a rather large one at that. It was quite odd to see how much of a perfect circle the tree line formed, almost as if they've arranged so by someone. And perhaps strangest of all, the rectangular patch in the middle of the whole thing! A patch of absolute _nothingness_, where not a single blade of grass, or flower, or living thing dwelt on. It made the Count feel uneasy, since it looked so much with a grave, and was wondering if the deer did not die because it happened to run over that empty spot, rather than because of its wound.

_That's ridiculous, I am imagining things!_

And yet, no matter what words he used to comfort himself, the fear remained. He looked towards his son, which, albeit pensive, did not seem to be sharing the same feelings as him. _God, let us get out of here alive!_

"Konrad! We should leave. The servants should not be far behind!"

The young man looked up, clearly confused by the suggestion.

"_Leave_? We just arrived here today, father." He smirked. "I see age is really taking its toll on you."

Sigbot gave a more desperate than amused laugh.

"So it does. C'mon, at least this way, we will have time to prepare for the ball in München."

The Count made sure to avoid the dead patch as much as he could, and went along the tree line, eager to get out of that place. His son's next words made his heart sink.

"Oh, I'm not leaving. We just got here. And that dreadful ball doesn't need much preparation, father. We are guests from the province, not the Emperor!"

Von Falkenstein took a deep breath and swallowed hard. He looked around at the trees, which this time looked strikingly normal. Yet he knew. He knew _them_. _They are laughing at me!_ He could not take it anymore! He will not let his son alone in there._ I will die here._ Sigbot let out a terrified screech and slapped himself, much to the dismay of his son, that took a few steps towards him, asking him if he is okay.

"I'm fine! I'm fine! It's just… been a long day, that's all. Fine. Fine. If you want to remain, then let us shall. We should find a good spot to sleep though, it's getting dark…"

_By God, this is my last day on Earth!_

"Oh, this will do." Konrad said happily, not noticing his father's looks. He fixed his belt and smoothened his blue shirt with golden buttons, before walking towards the dogs.

"C'mon, you silly muts."

Sigbot didn't even notice the infernal noise the dogs were making at the dead patch of grass anymore, so captured he was in his thoughts. He looked as his son grabbed two of them by their collars, laughing at them, but quickly losing his balance as the beasts yanked out of his grasp. One even turned towards him, looking more like a wild beast than a hunting dog and bit him on his arm, before turning back towards the grave like patch and continuing its loud vigil.

"He bit me! The thrice damned dog actually bit me!"

The brown-haired boy was taken by surprise and fell on his backside, while holding his injured arm with his other hand. The bite was not that deep, but it was enough to bleed. He looked at his father, clearly shocked by the animals' outburst.

"Konrad, perhaps we should return" his father said diplomatically.

The boy simply waved his healthy arm and got back up on his feet.

"Nonsense. The servants will just take the dogs away for the night."

The young man turned around just as the horses and the servants neared them, waving and arm and shouting after them. In a matter of minutes, the horses were hitched, a fire was made, and a butcher started preparing one of the deer to be butchered. The men, all wearing a blue and golden belt, the colors of the House von Falkenstein, set up their beds, and a beautiful, blue tent was erected, with a golden eagle on top of it. It was circular, and the interior only decorated with a golden carpet with various patterns on it, blue and silver. The beds of the two nobles were clearly more comfortable than those of the commoners, though nothing overtly complex. The hunting party soon set down to eat, and one of them took out a lute and sang a few songs as the Sun went down. Still nursing his bandaged hand, Konrad laughed and used _a spoon_ to play conductor. By night fall, the spirits settled, and Sigbot felt a little more at ease, after the happy evening and now surrounded by more people.

"Are you coming to sleep, Konrad?"

The two were sitting at the entrance of the tent, the young man holding a chalice in his hand and taking sips of wine. He seemed to be contemplating something as he tapped the edge of the cup with one of his gold rings.

"Does that not seem… _odd_, to you?"

He pointed towards the dead patch on the ground. Sigbot threw a quick glance towards it, but then quickly shifted it towards somewhere between the branches of the trees, as if only glancing at the accursed place was enough for something to crawl out of it and snatch him.

"God knows, Konrad. Looks like a regular patch caused by fire to me."

"No…"

The young noble left his glass at one of the supporting beams of the tent, and moved towards the dead center of the clearing.

"This looks like… like something was buried here."

The Count huffed, rather irritated.

"Someone's body, by the looks of it!"

For some reason, his son became rather ecstatic at hearing that, turning towards his father with unhidden joy on his face.

"_A giant's tomb!_ Like that boy in Salzburg said last year, do you remember? At the banquet for the old Archbishop! I remember he had a funny name… Asger. _Asger Elerik_, wasn't it?"

Oh, how Sigbot remembered that abomination! It was his first introduction to one of _them_! And he prayed to God and all the Saints that it will be his last. Sadly, the younger abomination managed to infest his own son with some of those demonic stories._ The Most Ancient and Noble House of Elerik_, such an influential family in those parts of Austria. Known for their charity events and patronage of culture. Loyal citizens. Rich beyond any's imagination. _Wizards_. He spat. And to imagine that an Archbishop of His Holiness, the Pope, would entertain relations with such creatures. And to make matters worse, that was when he found out just how many from the upper echelon of the Holy Roman Empire were intimately acquainted with such spawns of the devil. He was told that the wizards had their own nation, slightly larger than the Empire, ruled by some drivel called the _Imperial Magisterium_ and that House Elerik was of great renown and power in that gathering.

"There are no such things as _giants_, boy!"

Konrad did not seem to pay any attention anymore, instead he stood right next to the empty patch of land, slowly tapping it with the tip of his leather boot, as if testing it.

"Everyone! Gather round! Pull out anything that could be useful and start digging! I am quite certain there is something valuable buried in here!"

"By God, what do you think you're doing?!" hissed his father, grabbing him by the arm.

Konrad was always too adventurous for his own good. Normally, his father would have stomped down such pointless misbehaving, but this time he did not find the power in himself to do so. He started feeling nauseous, and the same dread he felt earlier started to return. He simply sat down next to his tent and silently prayed his son was not going to find anything in that damned pit he started to dig.

And dig he did. Along with all the servants. They used their swords, a couple of spades, and one young servant even dug using his bare hands. They were at it for a little over an hour now, and Konrad kept encouraging his men with tales of riches and fame. There was quite a mound of dirt piled up in the middle of their camp now, and once the hole was too deep, they expanded their dig outwards, improvising a sort of ramp that allowed them to return to the surface and take out whatever it was they were hoping to find. With every thrust of the spades, Sigbot sent passionate prayers, hoping that nothing will be found. And with each silent throw of dirt into the ever-increasing pile, he felt the very essence of life and joy returning to him, only for the process to repeat itself in the span of less than a second. Surely, they were going to quit soon. Even his naïve son had limits. They were going to give up and whatever was buried there was…

Von Falkenstein froze. He heard a powerful echo, as if metal hit metal, reverberating across the entire forest. He then heard cheers coming from the pit. His eyes started tearing, and his hands shook, his fingers clenching on the gold cross he was holding. He felt completely alone, even among the merry shouting just a few meters away from him. I will die here.

"What is this?" asked Konrad, while gently tapping his discovery with his spade. He pushed away a bit more dirt, showing a piece of immaculate black cloth. One of the servants kneeled and swept even more dirt away. It looked like the clothed rectangle was exactly the same size as the empty patch of grass above it was. It took them another half an hour to smoothen the improvised ramp and completely unearth the object, before they all grabbed it and lift it out of the pit. It appeared to have some supports on one end, so they planted it firmly on the ground on that side, the now dirty group taking a few steps back looking at their reward. If anyone found it strange just how perfectly clean and intact the black cloth was, no one mentioned so, just as no one could mention where could it have possibly have disappeared once they finally pulled it down. And pull it down they did. Konrad reached out with one arm and pulled at the knot that kept the whole thing tied up. His hand moved slowly, filled with emotion and anticipation. He let out a short breath when the covering fell on the ground, and the entire group took a step back, then looked at their prize in awe.

And how _beautiful_ it was! A mirror! _A mirror_ with solid gold framing, and who shown a reflection of a clarity no one ever imagined it is even possible to exist! The mirror was tall, about two meters tall. Its shape was rectangular, but the top narrowed into an arch, the gold design directly framing the mirror also following the visual of an arch. As if it surrounded a door, rather than glass, and truly, all that looked in it felt that the image looked more like an opening towards a mirror world, and their copies were also gazing at them, that was how clear the image was and how detailed the etchings on the arch decoration were. Flanking the arch decoration were two columns, slightly taller, which had two square, highly decorated cones on their tops, while the space between the two merged into the shape of a triangle.

"She's beautiful!" said one of the servants.

"God, I never seen such artistry before!" said another.

"Who could have buried such a work of art?!"

Konrad was about to say something himself when suddenly his entire world stopped. His heart beat faster and he felt his cheeks redden, while he mumbled something no one quite understood. Completely overtaken by emotion, he reached out towards the mirror, touching its surface with so much passion that it looked as if he was about to ask it in marriage. Confused, one of the servants asked him:

"What is it, sir?"

Only for the briefest of seconds did his gaze torn from his own reflection to look at that of his servants, and he was clearly baffled by such question. He returned his adoring look to himself, and spoke only after a few moments.

"Do you truly not see it? Are you blind?!"

The servants quickly exchanged glances, clearly not understanding what their young master meant.

"Umm… we see our reflections, sir. What exactly do you mean?"

This time, Konrad did turn towards them, and spoke with a completely uncharacteristic ire.

"Are you playing a trick on me, you insolent fool?! Be mindful in whose presence you are!"

This time, the poor men were starting to feel rather uneasy by their young master's attitude, and one even took a step sideways, so that he no longer reflected in the mirror. For the first time since they started their dig they looked at their prize with suspicion. With a great effort of will, Sigbot stood up and went closer to his son. He did his best to avoid any eye contact with the damned object.

"Son" he spoke gently "what do you see?"

Konrad looked to his father with the most beautiful smile he ever saw his son have, and his eyes had tears of clear happiness.

"I'll do it, father! I see it! I see myself! A bit older, ten years from now, perhaps! I am in München! The Pope is there too! He is crowning me King of Bavaria and Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire! I'll actually do it! I… I think this mirror shows the future!"

With every word, Sigbot's heart sank ever deeper, fully realizing just why that accursed mirror was buried. He saw his servants quickly disperse, and a few even made the sign of the Cross, while muttering prayers for themselves. He knew he could not let word of this discovery spread. He reached out an arm, trying to take his son from it, but the boy only yanked his arm away from him.

"No! How can you even consider pulling me away from it? If the mirror shows the future, I must see how exactly I will become Emperor in the first place! I must figure out how it works!"

The two argued some more, but no matter what Sigbot said, his son remained adamant. And now his servants stood as far away as possible from it, so he couldn't just order them to restrain him. It would not have looked well either, not at all. Still, it was almost midnight. The boy had to fall to the charms of sleep sooner rather than later, and perhaps his head will be clearer in the morning. With that hope in his heart did von Falkenstein go to sleep that night, though his mind raced for long after he lay in bed. He just knew there was something more about that mirror. Something _evil_. He felt it in the forest today. He did not know what it did, but he was quite certain that it did not show the future. No. Whatever that mirror was, giving clarity was not one of them.

He awoke grasping for air and immediately stood up from his bed. He took a few moments to collect himself, then noticed all the candles were put out. Must have slept a few good hours. The first thing that struck him as odd was the coldness. Sure, it was Autumn, but this was freezing weather! Even the harshest winters felt warmer! He quickly pulled the blue sheets from his bed and wrapped himself in them. That was when, while looking around, noticed that Konrad was not in their tent.

_What's that boy got himself into now?_

Rubbing his palms together and blowing in them to warm himself up then slowly walked out of his tent. What he saw next made him stop in his tracks. Everyone was gone! The horses, the servants, his son, it was as if they were never there! He looked around, shouted, searched for tracks, nothing! To make matters worse, someone somehow filled up that giant mess of a pit that was dug up earlier, the ground looking as if it was never touched, save for the dead patch disappearing and being replaced by regular grass. Unfortunately for him, whoever did that did not have the decency to also bury that blasted mirror too! The object stood there, right in the middle of the clearing, like an eerie monolith. A change did occur however, as its surface no longer reflected anything, instead it was pitch black!

_How very strange._

He took a careful step towards it, but then let out a short scream when the complete silence was broken a group of seven birds that landed on a branch near him. They were rather odd-looking birds, if he may say so himself. Small, black, with white eyes and long, pointy beaks. They started humming a strange tune, what that had the cheery rhythm of a lullaby but for some reason, filled Sigbot's heart with terror. The way they were singing it was strange too, in such perfect unison. When he next looked at the mirror, he frowned. He just noticed. The surface was not black. _It was open_! It was as if the archway surrounded a door, and that door opened towards… _darkness_. Towards pure, blinding darkness! It was like a place which not even the most powerful light could penetrate! It felt like nothing he ever felt before, and that simple, pitch black sight filled him with a dread he never imagined possible.

He woke up screaming and with a splitting headache. He was covered in sweat and quickly reached got up from his bed, trying to calm himself. The first thing he looked for was Konrad. That unruly boy was not in the tent! At least the candles were still burning. He took a peak outside, and much to his relief saw the small mountain of dirt and his servants sleeping. Slowly, trying not to make any noise, he went out of the tent. He sighed and his heart sank when he saw his son sitting cross legged in front of that damn mirror, eyes glistening at whatever lies and deceptions it fed him. In that moment he resolved to get rid of it as fast as he could. Or if that will not be possible, destroy it. He will pull his son out of its grasp!

_**16th November 1689, Paris, The Kingdom of France **_

_"Putains d'idiots, n'ayant aucun respect pour la vie des autres, sauf la leur! Petits paysans et lâches consanguins!"_

Madame Marie Épelion rolled her eyes, and put down her book with an exasperated sigh. She tried to enjoy her final morning in her beautiful manor, but it appeared her husband decided to go on yet another tirade. The _ninth_, this morning alone. It looked as if she could truly not have a moment of peace lately, not even in what was supposed to have been a rather solemn occasion. She looked around at the now empty ballroom, with its ancient expansion charms making the inside large enough to give even the beautiful halls of Versailles a run for their money. The reddish wooden floors were so polished they were almost gleaming, and the gold frames of the windows stretching across an entire wall looked at her sadly, with their intricate, floral decorations. On the wall opposite stood a magnificent mural painting depicting the founder of the _Most Ancient and Noble House of Épelion_, _Théoda_, the great wizard warrior that opened the path for the armies of King Clovis, more than a thousand years ago, when the Franks conquered Gaul. Ever since those distant times had House Épelion owned the lands on which this manor was built. She sighed. She could hear her husband continuing his tirade while traversing the manor's empty halls. She placed a beautiful, blue silk ribbon as book sign, while gently stroking the book and closing it. A most fascinating writing on the nature of Blood Magic's interaction with defensive wards, written by none other than _Perenelle Flamel_ herself! Madame Épelion removed her elegant, dark wand from the dragon-hide holster at her belt and pointed it towards the beautiful pink settee sofa with ivory legs. She vanished it just as quickly as she conjured it a few hours prior, both times silently and with only a flick of her wand. She then put her wand back and walked barefooted on the wooden floors. She was so grateful for the moments she had no Muggle guests to entertain or merely interact with. She could never understand how their women would wear those _horrid_, restrictive dresses of theirs! By Athena, they could barely move in them! What if they had to run, or merely turn quickly towards something? Even when she enchanted them, she could still barely breathe in such a thing! Waste of good cloth, if anyone asked her. She placed a hand over her beautiful Acromantula silk shirt, which reached her knees. It was white, with navy-blue lilies sewn all across it. The sleeves were slightly larger at the end, having a pleasant, golden colour which matched well with the gold necklace she wore over around her neck. And she would not have traded those blue pants for any of those Muggle concoctions they called_ lady fashion_.

_"Porcs dégénérés! Eux et leur stupide loi!"_

She finally tracked down her husband to their old bedroom. She placed a hand over the wooden door engraved with flying eagles, allowing her husband a moment to sense her presence. How much she wished she could do something about his current state of mind, but in truth she quite agreed with him. It was only as a way to temper his own outbursts did she not give in and threw her own temper tantrums or merely break down in tears. Although, after she ordered the House-Elves to empty the manor she locked herself in her study and drank and cried for the rest of the day. She knew her husband knew. He even tried to force open the door at one point, but decided to leave her mourn in peace. They both had to deal with this harsh new world they found themselves in. And for the first time in Marie Épelion's life, she _hated_ the Wizarding World. Taking a deep breath, she slowly opened the door, finding her husband sitting over a conjured wooden table, where he placed some letters. Leonard Épelion looked up towards his wife, his large, once so full of life, blue eyes staring deep into her onyx ones. By Athena, how much she hated seeing him like this. So… _broken_. She went closer to him, giving him a kiss and gently stroking his back. In an instant, she then grabbed hold of his strangely long golden hood and straightened it. Marie let out an annoyed sigh, then couldn't help but smile. No matter the situation, her husband could never fix his own robes properly, and no matter the situation, she could not help herself and did it for him. Even he smiled, and tried looking over his back at the long hood, then back down at the long, navy-blue robe he was wearing.

"Thank you, my dearest."

"You know you are hopeless with your clothes, Leonard" she said while smiling absently. "Anything new?" She looked warily at the stack of letters in front of him. He only shook his head and kept looking at them.

"Non, same old. The announcement, the eviction notice, some idiotic refusals to my appeals. And_ this_" he said with disdain, as he picked up a letter "is _a warning_. They say that if I do not register as citizen with the new governmental structure, they will remove my family's status as Most Ancient and Noble House and seize my vaults at Gringotts!"

Marie gasped, clearly shocked by this news. He did not tell her of that particular information, and she grabbed the letter, not for one moment believing such tyranny could exist in the world! She read it and reread it, and still could not believe it! This was _blackmail_! It… it could not have been legal, it… It was not_ fair_! Yet there it stood, at the end of the letter. That vile, vile seal. With her hands shaking, she placed the letter on the table and looked at her husband, outraged.

"How could they do this?! How do the Goblins even stand for this?!"

He let out a small grunt, which served as quite indicative of his opinions on Goblins.

"As long as there is gold to be made, do you truly think they care about the morality of the problem? This… this _disgusting_ thing… the…" he picked up one of the letters, to read the exact name "_the International Confederacy of Wizards_, they clearly managed to sell their idea to Gringotts."

Marie closed her eyes, trying to fight back the tears. Eventually, she spoke again, her voice slightly choked.

"Madame Pelletier… and Madame Beaumont, they… they were supposed to visit us this Tuesday."

Leonard stood still, lost in thought.

"Madame Beaumont, she has a daughter the same age as our Amelie, non?"

"Yes" Marie nodded. "A few months older. "I guess it's all over now. They will not even remember us soon enough."

"I had so many meetings scheduled at Versailles. And that business trip to Marseilles… I suppose none matter anymore. We… it's all over now indeed."

He clenched his fist and punched the table, cursing the ICW and their law. His wife kept patting his back, clearly thinking the same things he was saying.

"We had _lives_, my dearest. We had such beautiful lives, and they_ stole_ it from us! And not just us, so many others as well! We lost _everything!_ All so some cowards can enjoy their own uselessness in peace!"

"I still can't believe this is happening! That they can't force us to obey this… this travesty of a law! _The Statute of Secrecy_, how does one even come up with such a thing?! Do they not think of how many wizards and witches they will ruin with this? How many friendships broken, or heritage lost?! I still don't understand why they force you out of your ancestral home!"

He gave a grim chuckle and turned towards her.

"Well, they _claim_ the manor is simply to famous for a Fidelius to catch onto it, and the wards are simply too reactive with the surrounding Muggles to simply make the manor Unplottable. And since the structure is so obviously magical, we can't just masquerade it, or sell it. Which I would _not_ have done in the first place."

He rubbed his forehead and continued.

"As to how this is happening, well… There is no opposition strong enough in the places it matters. In Europe, it's only us, the Greeks and some places in Italy where the resistance to this Secrecy nonsense is stronger. There is no place in Europe where our stance is a majority though. And that blasted Magisterium in Germany is flexing its muscles on all the smaller states to bend the knee. Their Empire will be the most dominant political force in Europe for centuries to come, if we break off from the Muggles."

"What about Britain? Doesn't a branch of Lord Malfoi's family have sway over the country?"

"Clearly not enough. _The Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy_, yes. They, like us, have been quite adamant against it. But their opinion is not a majority view. Only a few minor families support it, when it comes to folk that would matter in the political scene. And the Gaunts, but they only do it out of principle. They call the Statute _cowardice_. Which, in all truthfulness, is not all that far from the truth." He looked at his wife and hugged her. "If you truly want, we could go to Qing. I heard the Dragon-Emperor is quite adamant in his country not having anything to do with the ICW. Some rumours of defiance keep popping up across Africa too."

"Our lives are _here_. Our friends… _were here_. Our heritage remains France, even if the country abandoned us. No, we… we have to stay. We have to persevere, somehow. If not for us, for Amelie."

He smiled and he kissed her.

"Speaking of, you should go fetch her. It's time to go. I wonder if she will keep breaking into your library even in the new home. I'm still surprised she even understands those Enchanting books she keeps stealing, even _I_ have trouble following them!"

Marie laughed, thinking of her daughter and how she always thought herself sneaky when she managed to nib one of her mother's books.

"Beauxbatons certainly can't start soon enough for her, non? She will surely be one of the best the school ever had!"

Madame Épelion left her husband behind and started scouring the deserted manor for her ten-year-old daughter. She would call out her name and look through every room, but the girl was nowhere. Eventually starting to feel worried, she took out her wand and cast _Homenum Revelio_, a sphere of red light building up on the tip of her wand, and feint flashes of light in the sphere appeared in the direction of everyone present in the house. One, she knew was her husband. The other, must have been Amelie. She followed the blink in the direction it showed, as it progressively got brighter, until it reached a closed door where the girl was. Marie ended the spell and sheathed her wand, her chest slowly feeling up with dread. _She was there_. Again. Her daughter was there, _again_! By Athena, she warded that door with as many wards that Gringotts itself seemed lax by comparison, how could a ten-year-old daughter have possibly broken them?! She knew for a fact her husband did not let her in, he never dared question her again on letting their daughter near it again after their first fight on the subject. So how did her child find herself near that thrice damned object?!

Marie slowly opened the door, trying to catch her daughter doing whatever it was she was doing near that thing. She always seemed to know when she was following her under a Disillusionment, so perhaps a simple, Muggle sneaking would yield more results. She was staying there, in front of that horrid gold mirror, cross legged. She always stood there, for hours on end, staring into that thing. She stopped in her tracks when she heard her daughter hum a rather eerie tune. Somehow cheerful, yet… terrifying all the same. What was even more strange was what she was saying.

_"Sein Anlitz ist schön, seine Worte Fantastisch"_

By Athena and all the gods, since when did her daughter speak German?! And those words! Who was she singing about?! And why did that song make her feel like she was being chained by some cold, unknown terror.

_"Doch dieser Teufel ist verdorben und garstig"_

Her hands started shaking and decided it was time to intervene, if only her knees did not fail her. What was wrong with her?!

_"Die Wünsche würd er dir gerne erfüllen"_

"Amelie!"

The child did not seem to have known her mother was behind her, judging by her reaction. She let out a short gasp and stood up, her face bright and happy as always. She smiled and hugged her mother, who was starting to regain her senses. She swallowed and hugged her back tightly, trying to protect her from something even she did not really know if truly existed.

"Mon Amelie, what were you singing? And how did you speak _German_?"

The child's playful onyx eyes got even larger than before, and she looked at her mother confused.

"I was speaking _another language_?! But how?! I never realized, I just understood the words and thought it is French!"

Well, this was definitely alarming and yet again Marie received proof there was more to that damned mirror than mere curses, compulsion charms and Legilimency enchantments, as her husband thought.

"But, _where_ did you hear it, my little baroness? And _who_ is it about?"

The child regained her explosive, cheerful mood, as she bounced under mother's touch.

"_He_ taught it to me, mama! It's about himself! Which, I thought was a bit arrogant, making a song about yourself. I even told him! _He_ laughed and said that because I am always honest, He will teach me something! He taught me _Ansuz_! I never knew Runes are so interesting, mama!"

Marie was getting increasingly alarmed with every word her daughter spoke. She felt a cold chin run down her spine and her lips started trembling, yet she mustered up whatever courage she had left and spoke to her daughter.

"_He_, mon Amelie? _Who_ are you talking about?"

The child looked up at her confused, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why, _Master Mirror_, of course!"

"Master Mirror?"

"Oui, mama! He is a really funny guy that lives in papa's mirror. He sometimes visits me in my dreams, but mostly we just talk here. He knows a lot of stuff! He used to show me silly stuff I like, but every once in a while he shows me stuff from where he's been! Did you know _Archmage Aldin_ used to badmouth his own wife to his _cat_ when she was not around? So funny, non!"

_Do not look up! Do not! By Athena, the gods, and whatever deity that has ever been worshipped Marie, do NOT look up! If you so much as glance into that mirror, He will kill you!_

For a few good minutes she just stood there, frozen. There was an eerie cold taking over the room. She did not trust her feet not to collapse, so she just remained in place, her eyes fixed on the top of her daughter's raven hair. She was afraid she will accidentally see the mirror, so sometimes she just closed her eyes shut. Her daughter sensed her troubled mood and started squirming, but she only tightened her grip on her, keeping her head tightly against her abdomen.

"Do not move, Amelie! Stay still! And whatever happens, do not look back, do you understand?"

"Mama?"

"Do as I say, Amelie!"

The girl's voice started breaking, but let out a muffled _oui, mama._ Marie started moving backwards, with as much care as she could. She did not risk letting go of her daughter. Whatever happened, she must not let her even turn towards the same direction as that… _thing_. The risk was too great. She may die, but she will not let _Him_ have her daughter! It a long amount of time until the two, now teary-eyed women, finally were out the door. Once the mirror was fully out of sight, she let out a long breath, and whipped her wand into her hand, sealing the door behind her with a powerful locking charm. She grabbed her daughter's hand and practically ran down the stairs, looking for her husband.

"Mama, what is going on? Can't I say _au revoir_ to Master Mirror?"

"No! We are leaving! Now! Do not look back!"

In a few minutes she was back into her old bedroom, Leonard still looking angrily at the letters. She must have missed another rant, she concluded. When he saw their state, he quickly sobered up ran up to them.

"What happened?!"

"Not now. Leonard. We must leave! Immediately! I shall explain later."

He clearly wanted to protest, but decided to trust his wife and merely nodded. He waved his wand over the table, the letters flying right into one of his pockets, and then the conjured piece of furniture disappearing. He took one last look around the room and then stretched out his arm. His wife grabbed it strongly, while she held her daughter with the other. Leonard was clearly distraught and she was saddened that she could not support him. But more important things were at play here. In the span of less than twenty minutes, she went from being devastated by losing this ancient dwelling to not knowing how to tear it down faster. Lord Épelion raised his wand, every fiber of his being filled with hatred for the Statute of Secrecy and the International Confederacy of Wizards. And he was going to channel all of that into this one spell. His mind made; he spoke the incantation harshly.

_"Ignis Malus!"_

_Fyiendifire_. A bolt of blazing hot, red flame darted out of his wand and into the hallway outside of his old dormitory. As the quickly expanding fire started engulfing the manor, he took one more look at his wife, which had a strange determination on her face, and Apparated his family away from everything they once held dear.

_**12th August 1771, Bilbao, Spain**_

"I still can't believe they did something so stupid, hermano."

"By the gods, little brother, this again?! Will you stop?"

The two men could not have been older than twenty-five years old. They were both handsome men, with olive skin, and shoulder-length, black hair. One of them, the slightly taller one, had a finely trimmed moustache, while the other was sporting a short stubble. They were wearing black cloaks, with knee-length shirts underneath, red and silver respectively.

"No, but I mean. You have to admit, the sanity of the aforementioned idea is of rather dubious statute. C'mon, really, you? _Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher_? Crazy."

The one that was apparently a newly appointed teacher merely rolled his eyes.

"Could you speak any _louder_? I think there are a few Muggles down in Sevilla who didn't manage to hear you!"

The younger man chuckled and merely fidgeted his right hand. His brother saw the tip of the wand coming out of his sleeve and smiled. _Privacy wards_. Young Ignacio may have enjoyed playing the part of the local dolt, but it was clear to see he was actually far from it. The two made their way to a small, run down store, specialized in Magical antiques. It was one of the last Wizarding stores left scattered in the Muggle world. Since the implementation of the Statute of Secrecy less than a century ago, all Wizard owned stores were legally forced to activate within warded, Magical areas, and any Muggle owned store that used to sell Magical artefacts was found, the artefacts in questions seized, and the owner and all that had knowledge of the Wizarding world were Obliviated. A store such as that one was a rather illegal business nowadays. Some people still did it as a form of last stand defiance to the ICW, though some simply did not have the money to relocate, despite the funding allocated by the Confederacy for such cases.

"I want to get you a new-job-gift. Mios Dios hermano, curse-breaker at Gringotts, resident expert in troll hunting and always having an open job offer with the Unspeakables here in Spain! You really took all the good genes, you greedy brat!"

The older brother, Diego, grinned and fired a silent Stinging Hex at his brother, who merely clicked his tongue at him.

"Rich of you to complain, mister _youngest-potion-master-in-the-Iberian-peninsula-to-ever-live_! If your forays into the matter of ladies of pleasure and overall debauchery were not so well known, we would have probably been colleagues right now!"

Ignacio waved his hand.

"Ah, to hell with that! I live well enough, don't need the recognition of some snotty_ Purebloods_ down in Madrid. I'd rather live a life I won't be regretting when I'm old and grumpy."

The two entered the store and gave a warm greeting to the old owner, who merely looked at them questioningly. They looked around the ridiculously crowded place, which seemed more of a dusty storage facility rather than store. There were mountains and mountains of various things, all placed in such a fragile equilibrium that Diego felt that merely looking at them will make them topple. He was about to head towards the exit when he heard his brother's voice calling from somewhere in the back.

"Heeeey, Diego! Come here a minute!"

Diego merely sighed, not trusting his brother's judgement when it came to antique artefacts, but followed along anyway. He found Ignacio standing in front of an old, dusty mirror, whose only redeeming quality was that it was, at least on first inspection, made out of gold. The new professor wasn't overly impressed with it, especially given the small burn marks the thing had here and there.

"Hermano, am I losing my mind, or do you see this too?"

"Ignacio, your mind has long since slipped from any state resembling normality. Just tell me what you see."

"Us! I mean, not _us_ us. More like… older us, I guess. We're both married! I have two kids. You too! With that delicious brunette you keep lusting over, the one down the street from us! I don't recognize my wife though. Mios Dios, what is this?!"

"Move over!" Diego commanded. This was surely rather strange. In a few moments after stepping in front of the mirror, the normal reflection of himself changed. He saw… _No._ That was impossible! His first idea listening to his brother was that the mirror showed the future, but this was… Unless… _"It shows us what we want."_

Ignacio was more thoughtful than his brother ever remembered seeing him. At least since he broke father's wand as a child and thought of ways to hide his involvement in the destruction. Next he spoke, his voice was strangely… solemn!

"The thing I want the most is a family?"

"So it seems" his brother said gently.

"And for you to hook up with that curvy chick with huge…"

_"Ignacio"_ his brother warned him. "Assuming this thing doesn't have any curses on it, it's a rather neatly enchanted thing to have. And… I guess it can be quite an eye opener too, right?"

He only nodded. "You want it?"

"If the price is right. Even if it turns out to have some nasty stuff on it, the Legilimency enchantments on it must be quite impressive to look at."

"Well, let's get it then."

The two started walking towards the counter, when Ignacio made a weird noise, as he usually did when he had an idea he thought hugely impressive but turned out to be quite annoying. He quickly pulled out his wand and pointed it towards the mirror, pushing his magic through it. That next moment, some words got engraved right above the mirror, much to Diego's dismay.

"Did you just… _vandalize_ an object of unknown origin and warding?"

"I'd rather call it an improvement. Look!"

Diego looked towards the mirror; his mouth still open in shock.

_"I show not your face but your heart's desire"_ he read. How unoriginal. How _Ignacio_. He rolled his eyes and did a wand wave of his own. "At least be more interesting!" The letters rearranged themselves so that the whole sentence was in reverse, as if read from a mirror.

"You're right, look how awesome that word sounds! Erised! _The Mirror of Erised_!"

Diego nodded, conceding to his brother's point. "It does have a nice ring to it, I admit."

"Well, let's buy it! I really hope it's not dangerous, truth! Those upcoming brats you will teach since September would quickly fall in line for a chance to look into The Mirror of Erised. Pfft, still can't believe you are leaving all the way to _Hogwarts_!"

**Author note: The French in this chapter is courtesy of the dreaded Google Translate. I hope it is not too bad. **


	3. But your heart's desire

**Author notes: There it is, the next chapter! I really enjoyed writing this one. Before we start, here goes the traditional disclaimer that I do not own Harry Potter or The Witcher, and nobody tosses a coin to this Witcher, sadly. Gosh, that reference is gonna get old one day, I know. Still couldnt help myself from making it. But hey, if I ever become a billionaire, buying the rights to these two is definitely on my Top 10 bucket list! Hope you guys enjoy, let me know what you think in the reviews! If I have any typos, I'm sorry. I'm trying to flush them out before I post this, but some always slip through the cracks. **

_**14**__**th**__** November 1798 AD, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**_

The Head-Boy was walking along the empty halls of the castle at Midnight, stifling a yawn every few minutes or so. He felt so exhausted by this entire situation! He'd been at it for almost a year and a half now, and he finally felt some small amount of relief at the notion that he was almost done! His father would surely be proud of him when he hears the news!

He ran a hand through his black hair, making a short stop in his walk and then letting out an exasperated groan when he felt some sort of sludge stuck on the top of his head. He didn't even bother to stop and clean himself; he was too tired to even think properly! He walked straight towards a large portrait of Leofric of Mercia, the famous slayer of the last specimen of the Silver-flame species of dragon, and muttered _'Aldorner fram Bael'. _In that moment, the portrait of the fierce wizard moved to the side, leaving behind an opening towards a dark corridor. He took out his wand and cast a silent Lumos, advancing through it. It was cold and smelt stale and humid, but it was the fastest way to reach from the second floor of the main building all the way to the dungeons. Though, _how _exactly that worked, was quite beyond him, as he was absolutely certain that not only the strangely short tunnel – given the distance it was supposed to cover – was only a straight like, but he had the distinctive feeling of a slope that went _upwards_.

Nevertheless, he felt grateful for small shortcuts like that. He always felt surprised but just how many secret passages were around Hogwarts, and how few of them were actually public knowledge. The trick was to say the password in the native language of whoever it was the painting was depicting. As to actually figuring out what the password was in the first place, well, all the passage-portraits were painted in such a way that their content was actually a riddle whose answer was the password. Of course, a competent enchanter could have easily pried it out of them by force, but he had neither the skill nor the patience to do that. And plus, it was an entertaining exercise to uncover the passwords. The tunnels made his life much easier, as they saved him some time and made sure he wouldn't be caught by teachers while wandering the school at night. Even though, as a Head-Boy, he was allowed to – that being the sole reason he bothered putting in effort to become Prefect and then Head-Boy – and he always played the role of the over zealous student who should just learn to stop and smell the roses, he wasn't always in the mood to hear his teacher's praise, or to hear them in general. Especially that _Mudblood_ that Headmistress Derwent brought from Spain. Always loud and so assured of his own righteousness, especially when lecturing him about his choice of spells during class, starting long lectures about the dangers of _Dark _curses. _As if such a thing as Dark Arts even exists, _he thought in utter distaste at the notion. And that was how, what he assumed was going to be his favorite class, quickly turned into a most annoying affair. He even contemplated skipping the class altogether and taking his NEWT exam for _Defence Against the Dark Arts_ straight with a Ministry examiner. Another accomplishment of the annoying _Professor Diego Serrano_ was to change his opinion of Gryffindor House from one of happy and willful apathy to a strong dislike, after the man was named Head of House less than three years ago.

_Well, less than a year left and it's all over, _he thought as he exited the pitch-black tunnel into the cold and rather gloomy dungeons. Even as a seventh year Slytherin, he and the dungeons still shared a strange relationship. The whole place kept feeling too claustrophobic for his liking, and more than once thanked Merlin that there were no classes down there. Growing up he spent so much of his time outdoors, tending to the small herd of Granians, the gray, winged-horses that his family still grew. Even though they only had five of them, his family did their best to take good care of them, and he would spend most of his days with them, which eventually led to a great love for flying. He was quite handy on a broom too, though he never tried for the Quidditch team. The young man would have never admitted it, not even to himself, but the prospect of having the worst broom among all the other players bruised his pride too much for him to consider joining the team. _Although, _the prospect of joining the team only for then to shake hands with the opposing Beaters and fling Bludgers at that annoying ponce Runcorn was quite a tempting one. No occasion to get one over the envious prick was to be dismissed.

_Corvinus Gaunt_ walked past by the closed wooden doors of the empty classrooms, on his way to the Slytherin common room, thinking back on his final years at Hogwarts. It has been quite a tiresome and complex affair, ensuring the secrecy of the famed _Chamber of Secrets. _He discovered the wondrous thing ever since his first year, using only a few clues given to him by his father, paying attention to the little hints and riddles scattered across the entire castle only for Parselmouths to find, and, he had to admit, no short amount of luck.

Throughout the past decade there had been increasing pushes from Hogwarts for the Ministry to offer extra funding for a modernizing the castle. That varied from quite necessary things like upgrading the wards, refurnishing, new, house colored cloth decorations for the Quidditch stands; to the rather bizarre if not outright pointless, such as _Christmas _decorations (as if any self-respecting witch or wizard would ever celebrate a holiday of the people that forced them into _Secrecy_ to begin with! Corvinus was quite certain in his belief that it will never stick, and everyone will continue to celebrate _Yule_), and a new plumbing system! As if the old vanishing enchantments on the toilets were not doing mostly the same thing these pipes would have!

He almost had a heart attack when he heard of that particular thing. He knew it was quite unlikely for the Chamber to remain undiscovered at the rate things were going, so he made it his life mission to keep the Chamber, _his _Chamber, hidden at all costs! So, he pushed through a truly exhausting task involving Transfiguration, Charms and no short amount of Confundus and Obliviate Charms placed on the workers. And even though it annoyed him to no end, he also had to make sure there will be a functional piping by the end of all that work, or it was all for naught. All in all, he did good work. And in the vein of the repairs throughout the castle, he did some cleaning in the Chamber too.

_If ever there was an overrated story… _he thought with a tinge of regret. His father told plenty of stories growing up about his own grandfather, _Rechtabra Gaunt_, who previously discovered the Chamber. The stories always talked about hidden rooms filled with books, manuscripts and other insights left behind by Salazar Slytherin himself. Apparently, the knowledge he discovered there was what allowed him to rise so quickly to the position of Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. It was a tragedy that he was deposed after only a few months in office! At least Corvinus knew one thing for certain: he was not going to be deposed by any Blood-traitors, because he did not find the famed records of Slytherin to begin with! The only thing which he found in that place was a giant basilisk. _Slytherin sure knew how to pick a pet_, he thought drily. He woke it, of course, but it only took a less than thirty minutes chat to decide it's best to let that old girl sleep. _Xuxa, _as the creature preferred to be refered as, clearly did not age well, as most of her speech was a strange mixture of creative combinations of the Parseltongue words for _protect, defend, enemies of Hogwarts, kill _and _devour. _Corvinus could only conclude that it… _she _was referencing its original purpose, to rid Hogwarts of all Mudbloods. His father told him that was the reason the Chamber was built in the first place! And he was yet to see his father wrong! The young Gaunt thought he may be able to impose his will on the basilisk strongly enough for her to have at least a semblance of coherence, but he was not fully sure if he would succeed or not in such endeavor, so he resolved to immediately trick the ancient serpent into returning to her slumber. As much as he hated the Mudbloods in the school, he wasn't stupid enough to set free an ancient, crazy snake that could kill the entire school with a mere gaze!

The young Slytherin was nearly back to his familiar grounds, that tunnel opening quite further back in the dungeons from his common room. He was already loosening the green and silver belt at his black, knee long tunic with the Slytherin House crest sewed on the chest. He was thinking greedily at his bed, those soft, deep green coverings, and the…

Corvinus stopped to a halt. If one was to ask him why, he would not be able to tell, not really. All he knew was that something felt… _wrong. _He quickly took out his light-wooden wand and placed his back towards a wall, scouring both sides of the hallway he was in. He saw _nothing._ And yet… something was so off.

"Homenum Revelio!"

The gently bulb of red light formed at the tip of his wand, but even after a whole minute, it did nothing! According to the spell he was alone! He frowned, but knew that there were ways to trick that damned charm. _Very well! Two can play this game! _

"_Creo Cibarium!" _He moved his wand in a complicated pattern vaguely resembling an _X, _and the moment he was done, the tip of his wand flashed a dim, lime light, before the entire corridor, as far as his eyes could see, got covered in flour! He looked around excitedly, ready to see the tracks of his follower and thus reveal his position! Instead, he saw nothing! Absolutely nothing!

_That's strange… _

Corvinus lowered his wand and looked around a few more times, before lowering his wand and dispelling the thin layer of flour he placed all over the hallway. He took a few more steps towards his common room, when all of a sudden, he stopped again. This time, not because he felt something, but because he heard something! Or better said, he _didn't _hear something! In his seven years at Hogwarts, he must have walked by the torches which lit up the hallways thousand of times. Every time he did, he heard a small sound from them, as if a log of wood was burning! Every _single _time! Not now! _Why don't I hear them now?! _The fires were burning in complete silence! Everything was so… still! Like he suddenly found himself into a picture repeating the few seconds of movement it had captured for an eternity! He felt an increasing sense of dread rising within him and had no choice but to lean on the wall as his knees began to shake. He was about to drop his wand when, just as mysteriously as this horrible darkness appeared, it had suddenly vanished! It was gone! The silence of the fire! The dread, the feeling of stillness, everything! And he was left feeling like an idiot, sweating and breathing heavily. As he was trying to regain his composure he cast a short _Tempus_. A glowing of a clock materialized in the air just near the tip of his wand, showing it was almost two in the morning! _What?!_ It was as if almost an hour passed in the span of a few minutes! Just as he was trying to process the latest strange event of the night, he let out a short scream when one of the doors right in front of him suddenly unlocked itself. Unlocked_ itself! _There were so many oddities about the Hogwarts Castle that it really was no point in trying to keep track of them, much less to approach them by the same standards you would approach regular magic. But _time disturbance_s were definitely a new one! Corvinus, now as awake as one can be, just stood there, staring at barely open door in front of him.

_I swear, if that bastard Peeves is doing this, I'm learning Necromancy just so I can come back here and exorcise his spectral butt out of this castle!_

The young Gaunt mustered up all the courage he was capable of mustering at the time being, took a deep breath and slowly walked towards the door. He pushed it cautiously, as if expecting something to snatch him at any moment. Wand ready in hand, he entered the dusty old classroom, casting a short Homenum Revelio and, of course, finding out he was alone. He was worried. He was a great student and a fearsome duelist, but that blasted hallway made him truly worried!

"Hello? Is anyone there?!"

A voice inside of him scolded him for giving away his position like that, but he already knew that if someone really was there, his position was already long known. _And I'm being played with! _His bright green eyes narrowed at the thought, and his grip on his wand tightened. No one played with a Gaunt and lived to tell the tale! Corvinus slowly made his way through the room, inspecting the towers of chairs and desks, and looking behind the stacked chalkboards leaning on one of the walls. The classroom really _was _empty! Which made everything all the stranger. Curious, he turned around to some rather tall object, covered in a dusty cloth. He approached it carefully, keeping his wand aimed at it. He already noticed it, but preferred to clear the more plausible hiding spots before checking it out.

When he finally reached it, Corvinus stretched out his free arm and grabbed the cloth tightly, pulling it down. He took a few steps back, coughing and clearing away the dust in the air with his hand. Eventually, everything settled and he finally saw the mysterious, locked away thing. It was a mirror! That was… _not _what he expected. Deep down, he could not shake off the suspicion that this mirror and whatever it was that happened to him earlier were somehow connected. And it really worried him. But how? He approached it, trying to read the inscription on top of it. At first, he frowned, being sure it was not a language known to him, but then he noticed it! The writing was as if reflected on a mirror!

"I show not… your face…but your heart's… desire." He slowly lowered his wand; curiosity beginning to agitate him just as much as fear did.

"Well… let's see how accurate you are, Mirror of Erised!"

He placed himself right in the middle of the mirror, taking a deep breath and waiting. For a few moments he saw nothing but his sharp features and shoulder length hair. Just as he was about to back away and let the whole issue drop, the image in the mirror changed! He instinctively wanted to dash away from the mirror, but his curiosity kept getting the better of him. Instead of the young student, he saw himself as a middle-aged man in fine, black robes made of Oriental silk. He had a wide, green belt and various silver jewels attached to it. His eyes then darted to the gold locket around his neck, Corvinus quickly touching his chest, almost expecting to have it on him in reality too. He was wearing Slytherin's locket _and _the ancestral ring of the Peverell family!

"I'm the family's Lord!"

But that was not all! Behind him stood the majestic manor of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Gaunt, the manor that his family was forced to sell back when Rechtabra was still a small child! The building was even more beautiful than what his father told him! It rose like a palace in the Irish countryside, surrounded by beautiful gardens and gilded fountains! He wasn't living in that pitiful farm anymore! He saw his family returned to its former glory, and it filled him with happiness.

Corvinus quickly cast some rudimentary ward detection spells, the tip of his wand glowing in various shades of blue. The Mirror was truly a work of art, whoever made it must have been a master of his craft! Even with the little enchanting and warding he knew; he knew enough to appreciate the subtlety of what stood in front of him. His mind made, he decided that by the time he finishes school he will learn as much as he can about the magnificent artifact in front of him. Afterall, there was a reason why the Sorting Hat considered Ravenclaw for him! He _will _figure out the secrets of Erised's mirror. And if his skills were not enough to do it, he always knew he can rely on the _Parselmagic_ he learned from his father!

_**25**__**th**__** December 1991 AD, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**_

Albus Dumbledore stood there on the cold floor of the empty classroom, surrounded by open books and a small package of Rascal, tropical flavored candies ripped wide open, some of the lively colored sweets scattered on the floor. Above his right shoulder flew a sphere of bright, white light, which lit up the room as if it was the middle of the day, not a few minutes passed midnight. Every once in a while, he would hunch over one of his books, switch pages and hum to himself, or move his lips in an almost silent whisper as he was reading. Sometimes, he would run his fingers over some line or word he needed more time to ponder over, before turning back towards the Mirror of Erised and getting back to work.

In his hand was the Elder Wand, one of the three mythical Deathly Hallows. Artifacts so powerful that, at least as the story went, made one into the _Master of Death _if united. Whether or not that was true, it didn't matter to him. At least not anymore. He enjoyed studying the Hallows, oh no doubt about that, but the actual mastery of death and promise of formidable power which they held was of no consequence to him.

The long, elder wood wand with dark bulbs along its length moved graciously in his hand, each movement revealing intricate knots and ropes made of pure light, all over the Mirror's surface. He had been working on deconstructing the enchantments on the Mirror for almost two years now, more than once owling his old master, Nicolas Flamel for advice.

The plan was _flawless_. Flamel, the renowned inventor of the only true means of achieving immortality and gold beyond one's need or imagination, the _Philosopher's Stone_, would borrow him his creation. Albus would then instrument a fake paper trail of locations where he would supposedly have placed the Stone, until his target would finally emerge. And he had no doubt _he _would come out to play. _Tom_ never could resist snatching something shiny. Once his former student was in England, he would send Hagrid, the most good and devoted of his staff and also his most careless and clumsy, to retrieve a decoy from Gringotts and bring it to Hogwarts. There he would place some token defenses guarding it and boldly announce to his students a seemingly random part of the castle where they were not allowed to go to, for no apparent reason. He knew they would be confused about his statement, but the one he was baiting would have surely knew the reason for the ban. And from then on, it was a game of waiting.

True, it surprised him when Tom arrived at Hogwarts right before the start of the year, hitching a ride on the back of professor Quirrell. It surprised him, and worried him all the same. He had to lower some of Hogwarts' wards in order for someone in Tom's current… predicament to even be able to enter the grounds, but he never imagined his student taking such a bold advantage of his hospitality.

_Always a showman, Tom. _He couldn't help a small chuckle, thinking about the entire thing. The biggest problem with overtly complex plans meant to display grandeur is that they are always more likely to fail than a scheme based purely on simplicity and stealth. If the stakes were not so high, he would feel slightly disappointed that his once brilliant student made such foolish mistakes. But as the stakes were as high as they could be, he could only feel relief. It bothered him to no end knowing that Riddle was so close to his students, but he did not risk placing any tracking and surveillance charms on him. He wanted him to feel like he had the upper hand, having fooled the entire school. He did ask Severus to keep an eye on him, and ordered the entire school's portrait network to give him constant reports regarding Quirrell's whereabouts and actions. It was lucky that Riddle chose to go with the incompetent fool image rather than anything resembling his true nature. It meant that his students were most likely in little to no danger from him. The wards of the castle would have alerted the Headmaster immediately if one of the students was severely wounded, or even killed, and Tom would not have risked discovery until he had his hands on the Stone. Still, Albus could not help but feel worried, especially for Harry Potter, who was in more danger than anyone.

He pulled one of the strings of light just so, and another strange, reddish mist shot out of his wand, the small ball of mist lighting up and getting fixed into place, the string of light returning to its spot and fixing everything into place. When he saw his success he let out a long breath and stretched himself, taking a candy from next to him and skimming through one of the books next to him. He was quite proud of himself, being almost done with the Mirror. Definitely one of his better ideas, if one was to ask him. The defences he was placing were quite devious, as took full advantage of the Mirror's insidious nature. He was going to place the Stone _inside _the Mirror. And in order to take it out, one had to desire it, but not want to use it. Something which Tom would never be able to simulate. In that point, he saw two options: either the Mirror's nature ensnares Riddle's mind and keeps him in place, or he will simply keep wasting time thinking he will be able to figure out a way to get it and Albus will have enough time to sweep in and finally destroy him.

There was, however, one thing which bothered the old Headmaster. When he started his work on reordering the enchantments on Erised's mirror in order to be able to hide the Stone in it, he counted to fortify the Legilimency charms on it, so they are even more proficient in keeping Tom in place. That was when he noticed the rather strange thing. _There were no Legilimency charms! _Everyone that looked over the artefact, he included, assumed their existence. After all, how could an inanimate object know with such certainty the deepest, most secret desires of any that looked in it! And yet no matter how deep he dug up into the magic placed on the Mirror, he still wasn't able to find them, and that frustrated the Headmaster. For a moment, worried that the famous object won't show Tom anything, he thought about placing such charms himself, but then he worried that his work will interfere with whatever method the Mirror was using for reading minds. He could not risk messing up whatever it was that made the whole system work. Too much was on the line.

After twisting a couple more strings of light into a knot and untying a couple more near the base of the Mirror, Dumbledore stood up examining his work. He pushed up his glasses and holstered the Wand into one of the pockets of his auburn robes, lifting all the books from the ground using wandless magic and placing them on one of the desks in the abandoned classroom. He sat down on one of the wooden chairs – oh, how he missed the excitement of being a student! – and pulled out a shiny, ruby-like stone out of his pocket. It felt warm. Alive, somehow. Oh, of how many troubles was that little stone going to spare him. And yet, even now, so far along that road, he could not help but feel a tinge of regret when thinking about what the most brilliant student that ever graced the halls of Hogwarts became. _And how much a fool I have been when dealing with him. _

Suddenly, Albus lifted his blue eyes from the Stone and looked up at the door. The proximity alerts he placed along the corridor outside triggered. _Guests! Well, that is surely one way to shake off the monotony, _he thought bemused. Although he never outright said it to either of the two men, he took a great delight in seeing how riled up both Severus and Filch were in regards to ensuring no student wandered the halls after curfew. It was a sort of personal affront to them, and their patrols were more akin to a hunting session. Naturally, the students picked up on that and upped their game, bringing the whole chase to quite high standards. He always made sure to discreetly award a couple of points to whoever managed to outwit the two. _Not all lessons are taught in classrooms, _he thought.

And so, Dumbledore placed a Disillusionment and Silencing charm on himself and waited. It took less than a minute for the door to open and close itself, all by its own. He smiled, not needing a second thought as to who his visitor might have been. He gave him that Cloak not even twenty-four hours ago, and he was already out on mischief! _Oh James, you would be so proud! _

And there he was, like clockwork! The levitating head of a small boy suddenly appeared in the room. He seemed quite scared and eventually took off the Invisibility Cloak entirely, looking around and making sure he closed the door well. Albus smiled when the child looked straight at him but did not have the faintest of clues of his very own Headmaster standing there, munching on fruit flavored candies. Harry Potter let down a couple of books he was carrying and Albus tilted his head slightly to read the titles. _Everyday Spells and Charms Every Wizard Should Know, by Eveline Lars. _Dumbledore approved of the book; it was a truly useful lecture. One in which even he discovered a few new things. He moved on to the other book the young boy was carrying. _1001 Curses and How to Properly Defend from Them, by Arcturus Black. _The Headmaster's eyebrows lifted all the way into his auburn, pointy hat. The boy must have taken his first trip to the famed Restricted Section of the Library! Albus had to thread carefully with him. Having grown up with no knowledge of the Magical world – _Oh, Petunia, how much I over estimated you! – _the boy did not truly grasp the implications of some aspects of Magic, and what diving into them would have required. If Harry was intent on returning to the Restricted Section, Albus must keep track of what he studies, and be ready to guide him towards safer knowledge, or place minor compulsion charms on books which better explained the things he was already building up an interest in. It was a rather charming coincidence that the very first book he took from the Library was one written by his great-uncle. _I wonder what you would have thought of this, Arcturus. How many of those curses will he be able to cast properly by the end of the year?_

Dumbledore chuckled; thankful he placed a Silencing Charm on himself. His first ever trip to the Restricted Section was far more… _explosive_ in nature. _How _was he supposed to know how minimally warded the entrance _actually_ was?! An intentionally botched potion meant to explode seemed a rather sensible approach at the time! His Head of House, Professor Serrano, went ballistic when he ran there and saw what happened, taking a record 500 points in a single swoop and giving young Albus detention until the end of the term! Not even Minerva managed to top that with a punishment, and Merlin knew she had plenty of opportunities, having to deal with the infamous Weasley Twins and previously the Marauders.

Still smiling, the now old Headmaster lifted his eyes and looked at Harry. It broke his heart seeing him so small and shy, clearly the result of his upbringing at those horrible _Muggles. _He kept looking at the boy as he slowly took in the sight of the Mirror of Erised, and was looking intently at the intriguing inscription on it. He slowly ran his fingers on the solid gold, then looked at his reflection. Albus smirked when he saw Harry trying to fix his unruly raven hair. James always kept it as untidy as possible, much to Lily's annoyance. And then, the famous Mirror sprung into action. The young Gryffindor let out a surprised noise and took a few steps back, quickly stopping himself and breathing fast. And then, his next words made Albus's heart sink.

"Mom?" he whispered. "Dad?"

His bright, green eyes danced across the Mirror's surface taking in a sight visible only to him. Dumbledore assumed he saw more relatives of his, as he was clearly looking at more than just two persons. The boy got as close to the reflections as he could, his hands touching the Mirror. Eventually he cuddled on the surface of the Mirror, in a manner which did its best to resemble a hug. It was heart wrenching for Albus to know that his was as close as he will ever get to getting a hug from his family. Harry closed his eyes, clearly trying not to cry, though he finally resigned into a silent sob. In the meantime, Dumbledore stood there and watched, at the moment feeling almost as sad as Harry himself, while holding the Wand and looking at the scene in front of him.

The child stood there for a few more minutes, looking at his family, taking in even the smallest detail of their faces. Every once in a while, he would say _mom, dad _or _grandpa_, and look in a certain direction in the Mirror. Albus, as much as he would have given Harry all the time in the world to at least see his family, decided it was to call it a night for his young student. No matter how it was exactly that the Mirror work, he knew this: it was not a friend of anyone staring into it. And he would not risk Harry being taken in by its influence. Thus, he raised his wand, deciding to make a small noise and scare the boy into returning into to his bed. But just as he was pointing his wand, Harry _spoke. _And Albus's blood suddenly froze. He _spoke! _The Headmaster may not have understood what it was actually being said, those hisses and eerie twists of the words were unmistakable! Harry Potter was a _Parselmouth! _Dumbledore's mind raced, trying to list all the possible explanations for the unexpected turn of events. He felt quite uneasy, especially since Parseltongue was an area of Magic he never had the need to do proper research on. _Could this be because of that night? Could Tom have done something to him? _This was bad news. No, to Albus, this had the potential to be a truly _devastating_ news! And suddenly, he felt every bit his age, wanting nothing more than to have someone else to pass down all these worries to. Tiredly, he waved the Wand, creating a small noise, at the sound of which Harry's attention to the reflections was snapped. He looked around and darted towards his books, then quickly pulling the Cloak of Invisibility over his shoulders. He took one last glance towards the Mirror then completely covered himself and ran from the classroom, heading towards Gryffindor Tower.

Albus followed him with his gaze, and when the door was shut behind the boy, he removed the invisibility and silencing charms he placed on himself. Sighing, he got up and slowly made his way towards the Mirror, looking at its gold edges intently. With a silent flick of his wand, a whole slew of thin, strings of light appeared on its surface. Dumbledore cast a few more spells, the tip of the Elder Wand flashing in colors of red, white, yellow and orange, before the Headmaster lowered it. He then pointed his other arm at the Mirror and did a clockwise motion, muttering some complex, Latin incantation. And then, he found something that surprised him almost as much as Harry speaking Parseltongue! Beyond all those layers and layers of light strings, beyond all the new enchantments he himself placed, buried as deep as possible, was a feint trace of a spark barely holding on to life. A spark of deep, green light. Even with his minimal knowledge on the subject, Albus recognized it.

"_Parselmagic…"_ he muttered. "How extraordinary…"

Most intrigued by everything that happened, he holstered the Wand and, for the first time in many years, allowed himself to glance into the Mirror of Erised. His heart's desire appears to have remained the same. The old man looked into it, feeling riddled with regret and sorrow at the thoughts of how different everything would have been if only he would have done things differently. His stomach clenched, and he felt tears building up at the edge of his eyes. Two people looked back at him from the Mirror, both smiling, and waving back at him. One was a most handsome man with piercing, dark blue eyes, with short, blonde hair and a goatee. He was wearing the most expensive clothes there were, black and burgundy red, with a long, black trench coat. Next to him stood a teenage girl, her bright blue eyes were full of life, and her long, auburn hair with silver strands almost reached her waist. Albus stood there, alone with the reflections of a life that never was.

_**4**__**th**__** June 1992, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry **_

Albus was _ecstatic_! No, he was more than that, he was thrilled! Euphoric! If the need to hurry was not so urgent, he would have stopped and danced of joy across the halls of Hogwarts! The moment the wards activated, he took the Floo back to his office from what was an obvious set up at the Ministry of Magic, meant to keep him distracted. His navy-blue robe with silver patterns in the shape of stars was billowing behind him, as he was holding tightly the Elder Wand in his arm. The Wand felt as if it was _singing _under his grip. It always sensed when he was heading into a fight. And it _loved it! _It was in those moments when he truly understood why the Elder Wand won its reputation as undefeatable. It reveled in the thrill of combat. Its answers to commands were faster, sharper, hungrier. As if it was saying to his owner, _Yes, yes, good job, now fire again! Another spell! Destroy them! _With such potent weapon in hand, Albus Dumbledore strode across the halls of the ancient castle, looking like one of the great wizards of ancient times. The air around him was almost electrifying, perhaps as a result of the glee in his eyes.

_The trap worked! Tom is down there, I finally have him cornered! _

Albus quickly walked through the now abandoned third floor corridor, made his way past the sleeping Cerberus Fluffy and burned a hole through the Devil's Snare plant below the trapdoor and cast a silent _Aresto Momentum, _slowing down his descent into an empty corridor. He passed by the buzzing, flying keys, the needed one already in the door wide open, allowing him passage to the next defense. The Wizarding chess set Minerva conjured was an absolute wreck.

_Must have been a match for the ages! Good job, Tom! I didn't think you'd have the patience to actually play!_

He then almost ran through the last solved defenses, the troll, Severus's potions and then finally! Finally! With a flick of his wand he separated a hole the circle of fire that stood ahead, already pointing his wand towards the middle of the room. He was ready to see the possessed Quirrell staring at the Mirror of Erised, his master berating him for not managing to steal the Philosopher's Stone already. Albus already had a cascade of spells whirling in his mind, ready to fire them. _I have him, it will finally be over! _And then, his world drew to a close, as he finally entered the last room and looked around. His heart tightening in his chest, he took a look around, slowly starting to tremble, not being able to comprehend yet the reality of the situation. Instead of a Tom Riddle fallen into his carefully laid trap, as he knew just happened only a short while ago, he found a shattered Mirror of Erised, a Philosopher's Stone lying around on the floor, a pile of ashes he could only assume to have once been Quirrell, and an unconscious Harry Potter fallen on the stairs of the floor, with severe burn marks on his palms.

"Child, what have you done?!..."

His heart racing, Albus quickly cast some diagnosis spells on Harry, making sure the boy was still alive, which, thankfully so, he still was. He wandlessly summoned the Stone to him, pocketing both it and his wand, then took Harry in his arms and darted towards the Infirmary as fast as he could, panicked and still processing what he witnessed. All his plans had been ruined, and he knew the consequences will one day prove disastrous.

Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter left the room for some time already, leaving behind only the sound of the flames which surrounded the place.

The Mirror of Erised was completely destroyed, pieces of glass from it being scattered across the floor. To anyone that would have looked back, it would have seemed like a deserted, circular room. To anyone that would have looked back, not a single spark of life would have seemed to have remained in the room. All that made it a rather eerie experience to hear clear, heavy footsteps walking across the room. No one was there to make such sounds. An even more bone chilling experience for someone that looked back towards the room was hearing the eerie whistling that made itself heard! It sang an eerily cheerful lullaby, the kind that was more useful if you wanted to give your children nightmares rather than put them to sleep. And then, the true source of all those happenings made itself known. No one would have been able to tell _how _he appeared there, it was clearly not through regular Apparition. Only that, one second, the room was empty, and the next, _he _was walking slowly towards the exit, whistling, his eyes full of glee and mischief. When he reached one of the shards of Erised's Mirror he stopped, hummed thoughtfully, and lifted it. He smirked while examined the small fragment, gently placing it in the leather pouch he was carrying. He turned around and took one last look at the ruined Mirror, before turning towards the exit and grabbing hold of the thin, leather shoulder strap holding his pouch and walking out in a rather carefree manner.

"_Time to see what's new in the world!"_ the satisfied man said as he left the room.

_**5**__**th**__** July 1996 AD, somewhere near Little Hangleton Village, England**_

It was a silent evening, not one person in sight, thus giving the rural landscape a rather serene look. In the distance one could see the lights coming from the little Muggle village, while a dark, desolate manor dominated one of the nearby hills. The old Riddle Manor, long since deserted, was slowly decaying under the eyes of everyone in the village, while they hoped someone would just buy the land and tear down the sinister dwelling already.

Given the blissful serenity of environment, no one would have conceived it possible to witness something as extraordinary as what happened that one 5th of July evening. It first started near the tree line of the nearby forest, where, from absolute nothingness appeared an old man with long hair and beard. He wore a long, silver robe with golden patterns along his chest, surrounding the buttons. The robe had a long hood with golden tip, and on his head, the man wore a small, square hat, with a thin, golden line on its edges.

Albus Dumbledore pushed his thin glasses up his nose and stopped, taking in his surroundings. He quickly whipped out his wand, playing with it, constantly changing his grip. He looked around, pleased to see there was no sign of any Muggle around. He then turned towards the tree line, laying sight upon his final destination that evening.

After about a hundred more meters, he stopped and looked with obvious curiosity at something he could see. He tilted his head to the side and chuckled, waving his wand over the empty air in front of him. Strangely enough, the moment he did so, a ripple of iridescent, green light appeared in the air, quickly disappearing.

"A good attempt, Tom. But I wonder…"

Albus made a swirl with his wand, a loud _bing _noise being heard somewhere above him, accompanied by a flash of light. He looked up, genuinely curious. He then placed his palm on the invisible shield in front of him, the green light attaching itself to the tips of his fingers.

"How extraordinary! Though, rather sloppy work on connecting the secondary ward to the decoy…"

He nodded his head and took a few steps back. There were two defensive wards on the area, with multiple decoys and fail safes attached to both of them. _How typical of you, my boy! _It was so very characteristic of Riddle to find some obscure piece of Magic, and then use it without ever considering someone else may stumble upon it too. He _did _tend to stumble upon admittedly _powerful, _obscure Magic, and he always thought that no one in the world could have the power to successfully pull it off, even if they knew it. Thus, Tom tended to prefer taking largely unknown things and overpowering them to the point of the extreme. The mighty _Lord Voldemort _had little care for the subtleties of things. This, of course, let his works vulnerable to two types of people, both of which Tom would never even imagine existed. One that had more patience and knowledge, and another that had more power than him. Such a thing was inconceivable to him, or rather, he willingly forced himself to consider it so as he got drunk on the power commanding his dreaded _Death Eaters _gave him. But much to his misfortune, Albus Dumbledore, was both smarter _and _more powerful.

He pointed the Elder Wand at the ward and shouted _Rixtelisimus_, a continuous jet of blinding pale blue light coming out of his wand and smashing into the shield, causing a large wave of green ripples appearing across it. Albus used his free hand to grab his wrist, then slowly turning his wand counter-clockwise and pushing even more power into the spell. Tom was strong. _He _was stronger. As the ward started collapsing, all the countermeasures got deployed. Snakes made of dark, red light formed on the edge of the shield, coiling and setting themselves in such a way to jump at Albus. The moment one of the large reptiles did, he let go of his wrist and pointed his now free arm towards it, tightening his fist. The moment he did so, sparks of white light started appearing around his clenched fist, and a ghostly mist enveloped the snake right below its head. Albus sharply moved his fist downwards, the snake then being smashed on the ground in an explosion of red sparks. Upon seeing that, two more snakes from the shield bolted towards him.

Immediately, Dumbledore slightly moved his wrist, and a red spark appeared on the Elder Wand, right above where it was gripped. That caused one of the serpents coming at him from the side to be kicked in the head by a powerful, bright red flash of light, throwing the snake up in the air, where it quickly vanished. For the remaining one, Albus ended his spell, took a few steps back, and just as the menacing reptile was a few meters from him, he shouted:

"_Aysmeshakh!" _

In that moment, a sphere of orange light left his wand and exploded the moment it touched the snake, dispelling it. With a quick movement of his hand, he cast the blinding blue light once more, sensing the first ward weakening under his power. It was almost entirely, opaque green, and finally, with a deafening noise, it broke.

Albus immediately cancelled his spell and did a pirouette, his wand pointed at the ground. Suddenly, a circle of golden light formed on the ground around him, forming an invisible, protective shield around the man. He then pointed his wand towards Tom's ward and shouted _Coercium! _Initially, a small bulb of red light came out of his wand, but it quickly expanded into a bright net which encapsulated the entire shield. It was much larger than he initially thought. _Fifteen points to Slytherin for a magnificent display of Magic! One point, Mr. Riddle, from Slytherin, for not taking the proper measures to protect it! _Albus chuckled and pointed the Elder Wand at his wrist, making a small cut. He immediately contained the gushing blood with a spell, capturing a bit in a levitating ball before casting a healing charm on his wound, which was as if it never existed. He then brought the blood ball in front of him, making complex circular patterns with his wand, slowly molding it into an array of Norse Runes. The moment the shapes of the Runes took form, he used his other hand to point two fingers at them, and the levitating array started glowing a bright, almost living, red light. With a grunt he then pushed his wand towards them, the Runic circle flying fast towards the ward. The moment it made contact, a loud, buzzing noise started, and Albus made a twirl in the air with his wand, expanding eerie tentacles of light across the shield, all emanating from the blood Runes he imposed on it. Occasionally, across various parts of the shield, one could hear large banging noises and see explosions of various lights. No matter how much they tried, Tom's counter-measures could not penetrate the net spell Albus had engaged. And once the tentacles finally extended over the entire shield, Albus pushed his power through the wand, in a matter of seconds his little _Blood Magic_ trick seizing him complete control over the ward, which, with a mere thought, he brought down.

Albus was breathing heavily and looked at what was once thought to be an impenetrable defense by its creator. It was now nothing, Dumbledore erasing the small golden shield he placed around himself as a precaution.

The moment he took a single step towards the desolate shack in the distance however, he stopped in his tracks, taking a worried look at the Elder Wand. It was _vibrating _under his grip! It felt… as if it was shouting in ecstasy, unable to contain its enthusiasm. The Headmaster frowned while looking at it, clearly not expecting such odd behavior from his wand. He only remembered it reacting like that once, so many years ago.

"But that would be impossible, there is…"

Unfortunately, his musings were interrupted by the hissings of a giant swarm of snakes crawling towards him menacingly out of the shack. This time, he couldn't help himself and he actually rolled his eyes. He quickly positioned himself towards the incoming swarm and pointed his wand at them.

"_Creo Aranea Maxima!"_

At his forceful command, the tip of his wand lit up in a bright teal light, and around him appeared out of thin air seven Black-widow spiders, larger than even Muggle cars. The arachnids immediately launched themselves into the snakes, starting to inject them with venom or catching them into cocoons of web. In the meantime, Albus was shooting various spells at the swarm. As one somehow jumped from the ground and tried biting him, Dumbledore instinctively shouted _Falx_, immediately severing the snake in half. As more and more were approaching him, he lowered his wand and stretched his other arm towards them, pushing through as much power as he could. It came out in the shape of a powerful wind, which took a large group of snakes and violently blasted them all the way into the trees, killing them almost instantly.

In between spells, Albus observed the battle between his conjured spiders and the snakes. He knew he would be able to win the fight with little to no difficulty, but he wanted to go back to his comfy office at Hogwarts and frankly, Tom's little _Heir of Slytherin _power trip was boring him. And so, Dumbledore simply stopped his casting and whispered two words:

"Ignis Malus!"

A large jet of incandescent, menacing red flame erupted from his wand. It was quickly forming a circle around Albus and extending itself towards every direction, carefully under its caster's command. He let it go for about half a minute before extinguishing it with a mere flick of his wand.

Dumbledore looked around at the hellish scenery around him. The earth was absolutely scorched, and a large area around him was riddled with carbonized snakes and spiders. He carefully made his way through them, eyes fixed on the shack ahead and wand strongly in his grip. He was not foolish enough to let his guard down.

When he was just a few steps away from the abandoned house, Albus had to wonder how was it that it was even still standing. The infamous Gaunt Shack. The place where the once powerful, rich, feared and respected Most Ancient and Noble House of Gaunt ended. Where it was relegated to live, in squalor, feeding mostly from its own bitterness and hatred rather than from food like all other people. They moved here somewhere in the mid-1800s, and not much later completely faded from public view and mind. Lord Corvinus Gaunt was the last great product of the fallen family, though his efforts to restore his name to its former glory were already an uphill battle by his time, and dying young with no heirs of his own meant the little he did manage to achieve quickly went down the drain. His nephews squandered away the small fortune they had left, having to sell almost all their belongings and moved to the repulsive hut that now stood before Albus.

Dumbledore advanced slowly, casting a silent Lumos and finally entering the shack. It no longer had any furniture left, and some of the greenery that completely overtook the outside of the house was already forcing its way in the interior too. The wooden floors were squeaking under even the lightest pressure, and there were quite a few holes in the roof, with various vines hanging from them.

It did not take long for Albus to spot what he was looking for. A small, unassuming wooden box, seemingly forgotten in a dark corner of what was once a living room. He took a good look at it, casting a plethora of detection charms, all coming back to him with no results.

"Interesting."

He knelt down next to the small box when he finally reached it, not daring to make a single move, as if merely breathing to fast next to it would have triggered an attack. One of Tom's creations was definitely there. A _Horcrux. _He could almost feel it through the thin layer of wood. _What have you done, you foolish boy? _He sighed and eventually mustered up the courage to flick his wand, slowly opening the lid on the box.

The second he did that, the Elder Wand started vibrating stronger than ever, Albus quickly retracting his hand to examine his prized possession. It was just as before. It was as if the wand was… celebrating. But, what could it have been? The imminent destruction of the Horcrux? Plausible, Albus thought, but why would the Wand be so invested in such a quest?

And then, every train of thought in his mind ground to a screeching halt. Albus even forgot to breathe since the moment he saw it. The Horcrux. Or better said, _what _the Horcrux was! _This explains the Wand's behavior, _he thought. He felt completely overwhelmed by emotion! The ring! Of course, how could he not have noticed it in the memories?! The Gaunt family ring, the simple, gold jewel with that strange pitch-black stone attached to it. The stone that, he just noticed, had the Peverell crest on it! The crest of the Deathly Hallows! It was the _Resurrection Stone_!

"This cannot be…" His breathing grew faster and faster, being flooded by so many memories of his youth, searching for the Hallows. And so much of his later years, hoping to at least find the Stone, but for a much different reason than before. "Impossible" he muttered faintly.

And unable to contain his enthusiasm anymore, Albus Dumbledore reached out for the ring. And just as the tip of his fingers made contact with the cold metal, he let out a horrifying scream, retracting his hand and falling on his back, screaming. His hand was shaking violently, and the pain he was feeling from it was something he would not have wished even on his worst enemies. Something that made the Cruciatus Curse feel more like a mild Stinging Hex by comparison! He barely managed to focus enough to lift his wand and point it at his arm, casting as many numbing, healing and diagnosis charms as he could. And when he discovered what happened to him, he felt his entire abdomen constrict out of stress and fear. _The Withering Curse! _It took all the power he had left to slow it down, but it was already passing his knuckles by the time he got back on his feet.

_Well done, Tom! Well done indeed! _

He shut the lid back down over the ring, and levitated the box, no longer taking any chances with it. He was going to destroy it right there, but now he felt too weakened to actually do it. He decided to take it back to his office at Hogwarts and use Gryffindor's Sword to pierce through and destroy the Horcrux while keeping the Stone intact. And he needed Severus. If anyone could manage to have some useful ideas about how to best contain this curse, it would be him. For he had no doubt, the most that could be done was containing it. Such a curse could only be removed by its caster. As Albus Dumbledore Apparated away from the Gaunt Shack, only one thought kept screaming inside his mind: _I am dying!_

**Author notes: Lots of things happened in this chapter! I really really enjoyed writing it! I feel like I could branch off into a full on fanfic at every stop along this time jump. So, first glimpse of Harry and Master Mirror, and a small taste of the bad ass Dumbledore, all in one chapter. And some more mentions of the Gaunts, which I'm weirdly fascinated by. Good thing Corvinus fit the timeline I was going for! We should really get into the meat of things starting next chapter, which will be posted sometime within the next week. I hope you liked it! Let me know what you think! Oh, almost forgot! Aldorner fram Bael, the password at the beginning, should mean Refuge from Flame. I say should, because who knows if that Old English translator I found didn't bamboozle me or not! Professor Diego Serrano is really starting to grow on me. I didn't really think of a life story for him beyond the little piece at the ending of the previous chapter, but now that I put a bit more thought into him, I really find him an awesome guy! The dude was Albus Dumbledore's DADA teacher and Head of House, for crying out loud! Y'all just know he has to be an impressive individual on his own right! Alright, see you guys within the week! **


	4. A meeting at a crossroad

**Author notes: Really fast-paced mammoth of a chapter ahead! I hope you guys enjoy it! While writing this I realized I know quite a few pieces of fitting music to go along with it, so I decided to leave you with the "official" Master Mirror fanfiction soundtrack. I'm sure you will like these ones. **

watch?v=0crf5th6oK0

watch?v=zenPtRDCI8w

watch?v=-PeEfMP-6wk

watch?v=XrPyxhRbu8I

watch?v=ZL1LBle8rTI&t=22s

**I think they are really fitting to the tone of the fic as a whole. Especially the first one. As usual, the traditional reminder to excuse minor typos and slips on the keyboard and that I own neither the Witcher nor Harry Potter. I wonder how would Master Mirror turn this one around if I wished I did. Probably just dump the books in my lap. **

**_10_****_th_****_ July 1996, Little Whinging, Surrey_**

Harry Potter was absently toying with one of the fries, dipping it into the sauce again and again and never even thinking about eating it. His other hand was busy caressing the crumpled piece of parchment in his navy-blue jacket's pocket. He already memorized the short missive in which Albus Dumbledore informed him that he will retrieve him from his relatives that next Friday. When he first read the letter, he could not help but feel a wave of joy and relief. Being rid of the Dursleys after not even two weeks! Not even in his dreams would he dare imagine such a beautiful turn of events regarding his dreaded Summer holidays!

And then it hit him. This felt too good to be true! And he knew first-hand after growing up with the model family of the neighborhood, the dear _Dursley family_, that if something feels too good to be true, it's probably a hoax of some kind. But why would Albus Dumbledore of all people try to trick him?

_Maybe it wasn't Dumbledore to begin with! Maybe it's some Death Eater ploy meant to lure you out. _

But would they have been able to locate him? After all, Dumbledore turned the painfully inconspicuous little sub-urban home from Number 4, Privet Drive into a veritable fortress. Ward on top of ward, Blood Magic, dormant portkeys inlaid in the very structure of the house meant to activate if all other defenses would collapse, countless alarms linked directly to Dumbledore, and all that was powered by and linked to the piece of magic that was active in Harry because of his mother's sacrifice. It was an unbreakable defense. He only had to live there for a while and call the place home. And not alter the minds of his relatives in any way, as every participant had to be willing in order for Lily's protection to remain active. Harry still remembered Dumbledore's dejected looks when he explained that to him. _I knew I was condemning you to ten difficult years. _His Headmaster's words just a few weeks prior initially filled him with rage. Dumbledore immediately sensed the impending storm and tackled it before it even erupted.

And then, Harry knew there was _truly _no other choice. The blood protection was linked to his mother, so he needed to stay with maternal relatives for it to keep working. And the only one remaining was his dear aunt, Petunia. Initially, Dumbledore assumed it would be only a temporary solution. As impressive and powerful as the protection was, if anyone knew of other ways of similar power, it was Albus Dumbledore. And he was counting days until he would retrieve the young child from what Minerva McGonagall rightfully dubbed _most awful Muggles. _But as if to prove Harry's ideas, life decided to play its tricks on the young boy once more. _If it's too good to be true, it's not true! _And so, the now leaderless and riddled with rage Death Eaters decided to take revenge on behalf of their thought-to-be-dead Lord.

Thus, within a year after that fateful Halloween night, all of his paternal relatives, to whom Dumbledore planned on leaving Harry with once all the stray Death Eaters were rounded up, had been murdered. His great-uncle and aunt, Fleamont and Euphemia, their two sons, Calix and Alerio, some distant cousins, Icarus, Irene and Xanthus, together with all their children. His grandparents, Charlus and Dorea were already gone when James and Lily died. There were some options left from Dorea, which was born into the Black family. But Dumbledore quickly dismissed those, and with good reason. Andromeda Tonks, nee Black, was disowned from the family, and if Albus placed Harry with her, the decision would have immediately been challenged in front of the Wizengamot by Narcissa Malfoy, her own sister. Harry shuddered at the thought of growing up with the Malfoys. And thus, he remained the last member of the once high and mighty Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter. _Well, all but one, _Harry thought. Interestingly enough, he had a single more living relative alive from the Potters, one _Calignis Potter._ Once a wizard of great renown and power, Calignis was a permanent resident of Nurmengard prison, of all places, where he served imprisonment for being one of Grindelwald's _Flag-Bearers. _Flag-Bearer was a position corresponding to that of a Muggle general, and you had to be of immense strength and loyalty to the cause to attain such ranking within Grindelwald's movement. Given his status, the man would not have been given custody, assuming he would have wanted it in the first place.

This train of thought brought Harry to the one person Dumbledore _could _have left him with once the dust settled: _Sirius Black. _The young man felt his chest tighten at the thought of his recently deceased godfather. The man who spent twelve years in Azkaban while being innocent. The man who escaped only to save Harry from the danger of constantly being near the traitor Pettigrew, disguised as a rat Animagus. The man who offered Harry a home before even tending to his own wounds.

_He cared for me as if I was his own son. _

Harry's heart began beating faster as he continued to stare at the cheap fast-food meal he ordered and which he didn't even touch yet.

_And I killed him. _

His knees and hands began shaking, and he would have surely collapsed if he wasn't already standing. He remembered Sirius falling through the Veil. The visions. Not giving any interest to Snape's Occlumency lessons. The Mirror. _How could I have possibly forgotten the Mirror?! _His mind started creating scenario after scenario at an increasingly rapid pace. What if he remembered to use the communication mirror Sirius gave him? What if he worded his question to Kreacher differently? What if he went to Grimmauld himself? There were countless such variations playing in his mind, all ending up with Sirius being alive and him finally having a family. But instead, he had to rush towards the Ministry and fall right into Voldemort's trap, all throughout ignoring Hermione's warnings. _Petunia is right. I am a worthless freak. _And now, Sirius is dead. The Order lost its headquarters. He lost the only family he had left.

_Maybe Dumbledore hates me and that's why he tricks me into thinking he will take me from the Dursleys. _

Scenario after scenario, one more far fetched as the other made their way inside Harry's mind, completely freezing him in place. He started breathing faster and faster, being completely overrun by terror. Deep down, he knew that most of what he was thinking about had no way to ever happen, but there was also another voice at play here. One that whispered in his ear each time he tried to calm himself, and it said _yes, but what if? _What if the death of Sirius cost them the war? _What have I done?! _

He suddenly felt losing control of himself, and with an increasingly shaking hand he pushed himself back into the chair, not even noticing he tossed the fry right onto the window. He was only pulled away from his thoughts by the sound of the restaurant's door opening. His green eyes darted towards the door, as he slowly felt gaining back some control over himself. He tried to get himself distracted. To think about literally anything else in the world except Sirius. He thought about his friends, and how he was about to see them soon enough. _Will I really, though? And what if they hate me too? Afterall, they almost died because of me. _

Sensing the dread returning to him, he quickly got up and headed towards the exit, leaving his food untouched. He wiped the cold sweat on his forehead with his hand, walking absently and trying his best not to think about anything. He had been doing that a lot that Summer, walking around with no real aim. Riding the bus, or the metro all towards the end of the line, drifting around parks and walking around and across London without ever looking at anything. He barely slept, and when he did, he would have the same nightmares over and over again. His parents dying, then Cedric, Sirius, eventually Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore, he would see them dead every night, and all because of him. He barely spent any time at his relative's house anymore, mostly just coming back at some point after midnight and leaving early in the morning. He froze when he realized that, feeling panic once more overtaking him.

_Dumbledore said I have to live there for about a couple of weeks! What if I accidentally collapsed the wards?!_

He could not take another step further once the thought hit him. What if him barely setting foot in the house that Summer made the wards fall? Did he just ruin yet another one of Dumbledore's plans?! Just like he did with the Philosopher's Stone five years ago! _Voldemort could have been destroyed that day! If it wasn't for me! _

"I'm fine! I'm fine, the wards are still up! I would have felt them coming down!"

_Oh yeah, just like you felt their existence in the first place?_

He felt tears rising in his eyes as he looked around the empty intersection, trying to think of ways to calm himself. Hands shaking, he took out the parchment from Dumbledore and held it tightly in his hands, trying with all his powers to make himself accept the feint trace of hope that its content was actually real, and he wasn't hated. He closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing, as his heart beat loudly in his ears.

"Need a hand, young man?"

He couldn't help himself. Harry let out a short scream and turned around. Tried to turn around, more like, as his shaking legs failed him and he fell backwards on the pavement. He looked around, and at first glance, the place seemed deserted. No car, no people, not even stray dogs or cats. Just an empty intersection in the middle of the night. But then he felt like he saw something, and he hastily pulled out his wand and pointed it towards the suspicious sighting. Yes, there definitely was someone there. Right at one of the crossings, leaning on one of the flickering street lights stood a man. He just… _stood _there. Watching him. Smiling. He seemed amused at the teenager's reaction. Harry took a few steps back then got up, never once taking his eyes off the man. He didn't even care if he might be a Muggle, he wasn't letting his guard down in front of this stranger! He had a strange feeling while looking around, as if the entire city simply faded out of existence, and all that remained was that deserted intersection.

"Nice to see you back on your feet! Nothing like the grip of your wand to get the blood back flowing, isn't it, lad?"

_Wand. He knows what this is. Wizard, surely. _

"Who are you?! And keep your hands where I can see them! No funny business, you hear me?!"

The man just looked increasingly amused and stopped leaning on the pole, raising his arms as if surrendering. He took a couple of steps towards Harry then stopped.

"Gaunter O'Dimm, at your service! A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Harry Potter."

"How do you know who I am?!"

The man chuckled and took a frugal look at Harry's scar.

"Really, lad? It's not like you are a celebrity around these parts, no? Us normal, humble folk all know how you look like, I'm afraid."

Harry's eyes narrowed at his theatrics. The man waved his hands around and lowered his head in a mock bow.

"What do you want? Who sent you here?"

"Oh, I sent myself, have no doubt about that! To answer what you are _truly _asking, I assure you, I have no association with that unpleasant brute of yours, Riddle."

_How the hell does he know Voldemort's real name?! _

Harry slowly relaxed his grip, but did not lower his wand one bit. There was something… _off_ about the man. No matter how serene his smile and joyful his eyes, something in the back of Harry's head kept screaming at him to run as fast as he could. O'Dimm, if that even was his real name, stood there with his hands raised and his dark, brown eyes full of amusement and mischief. He was only a bit taller than Harry, with pale skin, bald and sporting a stubble. He wore Muggle clothes, surprisingly enough, a dirty orange hoodie with two blue stripes above his elbows. He had blue jeans, sneakers, and a leather pouch hanging at his side.

_If he wanted to kill me, he would have done it already. _

"Who are you really? What do you want from me? I doubt this meeting is one of chance."

O'Dimm finally lowered his hands and held onto his bag. He looked carefree and got a bit closer, stopping only when he saw Harry's grip on his wand tighten again. The teenager felt increasingly erratic as with every step the man took, the weather seemed to get increasingly colder.

"It isn't indeed. See, once upon a time, I used to be a famous merchant of mirrors. Works of art, every last one of them! They used to show the truth and truth alone! So clear they were, I doubt you could even picture it. I used to be dubbed _Master Mirror_, or sometimes, _The Man of Glass_. Now, tell me, Harry Potter, I can sense you're the fear you experience at the moment. Why exactly haven't you run off beyond those wards by now? And yes, they are still up."

_What the hell?! Okay, focus Potter! You can do this!_

"And turn my back on a potential enemy? Plus, you are clearly here for a reason. I'm quite curious to hear it."

O'Dimm pondered over the answer for a few moments, as if trying to comprehend the implications of every word. Eventually, he smirked and nodded, seeming satisfied with what he heard.

"Curiosity, but tempered by caution. A good mix of traits, young man! One, I dare say, that will aid you well in the future! Now, to the business at hand. Do you remember what was the very first thing I said to you?"

Harry felt slightly confused by the seemingly random question, but answered it nonetheless.

"You… you asked me if I need a hand."

O'Dimm nodded gracefully. "Indeed. See, helping you, should you agree, is exactly why I am here! _You_ are in need of assistance. _I_ am a merchant. To my mind, that means we may find common ground to reach an agreement."

The teenager let out a humorless laugh and shook his head.

"Unless you sell a mirror that can instantly kill Voldemort, I really don't see how you could help me."

The man didn't even flinch when hearing the Dark Lord's name. Instead he shook his head in disapproval.

"Don't be crass, Harry! His name is _Tom Marvolo Riddle_. A weak, terrified, broken little boy who thought that adopting a silly moniker will free him from his pain but instead forever chained him to it. A tragic tale, in truth. Ever wondered just how many people across the world are just one bad day away from being _Voldemort_?"

O'Dimm really seemed to settle into his monologue, and Harry just stood there listening to his melodious speech.

"See, it's easy to hate the less than human, half-snake with red eyes, popping out of a cauldron and walking with a giant serpent over his shoulders. But look closely enough, and you see the cracks. Small, and so well hidden, but they are there, alright! And beyond them is still that child that grew up bullied by everyone at the orphanage, who had to live with bombs and death around him, who felt betrayed by his mother for dying on him when he needed her the most, and who grew up terrified of nothing more than death. At one point, you find that hatred and rage are… _safer. _There is no more pain in hate. Sure, there is no pleasure or happiness either, not in the true meaning of the word. But for people like Riddle, not feeling the pain and the fear is a good trade off to make. Do you think he keeps using the Cruciatus as punishment on his followers for fun? No, no, no, he is no Bellatrix Lestrange, that one! He uses it, because the power trip of torturing some Pureblood who got the world on a silver platter at birth temporarily fills the gap inside of him. A gap which, I'm sure, even he doesn't know it's there anymore."

It was fair to say that Harry was speechless by the time Master Mirror finished. He had no clue what Voldemort's background was. Suddenly, the Dark Lord's words to him started floating in his head. _We are so much alike, Harry Potter. _Were they really? Was O'Dimm lying to him? He felt nauseous thinking about it.

_I wonder how often in my life have I been just one bad day away from being Voldemort? _

"Harry?"

_It is our choices that define us, in the end. How right you were, Dumbledore. No matter what, I didn't end up like him. No matter how similar our lives were, I survived. Whole. _

"What is it?"

"I _could _help you finish off Riddle. Mind you, I can't just do the deed for you! But with my aid and knowledge, it will be a rather easy affair. But here is really where it gets better for you! See, I can do so much more than just help with Riddle."

Harry slowly lowered his wand, curiosity slowly taking over him. The intersection was still devoid of all life save for the two of them. Everything was eerily silent, as if frozen in time. Somewhere in the back of his head, a small voice still screamed at him, begging him to turn tail and run, and forget the whole thing. But he didn't.

"I am a man of many talents, young man. I could, if you so desire, call upon my talents to give you things you have always dreamed of. Wealth beyond one's dreams? Knowledge of all things? The charm to win every woman you so desire? Or perhaps your desires are of a deeper nature? Children? _A family?_"

Harry immediately narrowed his eyes at that. _I could have my parents back! And Sirius! _The man in front of him made every alarm in him ring loudly, but the prospect of having those he loved back to him was just too much to ignore!

"You are not a wizard, are you?"

"No, I am not."

"Human?"

O'Dimm shook his head.

"Harry. _What_ I am is of no consequence. It is best not to dwell on it. And even if you will, I will, just with this issue, spare you from your wish. All that matters is that I have the skill to back up everything I say to you."

_Run, you fool! _

_But I could fix everything. Right now! _

Harry realized all to well the impasse he was in. This was one of those moments which, no matter what he decided, he would probably look back on it and regret not taking the other route. He was as of right now, both literally and figuratively, at a crossroads. He was no fool. He knew enough of the Magical world to figure out that whatever O'Dimm was, he was both rare and dangerous. No matter how much he tried to come off as harmless, he must have been a creature of immense power, one that would undoubtedly ask for something in return. _I should say no. Go home and never look back. _He knew that was the wisest thing he could do. _But can I ever live with myself knowing I let this pass? _He looked at Master Mirror, trying to sound as confident as he could. He probably failed, if Gaunter's smirk was any indication of it.

"Can you… can you bring my parents back?"

O'Dimm seemed genuinely saddened by the question, and shook his head.

"How often I was asked just that. Always, have I wished I could answer _yes_ and just do it, but I'm afraid the answer is no. The very first thing you ask of me, is one I can not provide. No magic can bring back the dead, Harry."

The teenager only nodded numbly. He expected that. He knew it was all too good to be true. His voice shaking, he asked his next question.

"What about Sirius?"

O'Dimm's eyes seem to lit up and he looked as if he was close to bouncing around of excitement.

"Now, _that _is a different matter entirely! Sirius Orion Black did not _die. _He merely… how should I say it, walked through a door. It will be incredibly risky. And I mean it. It is still no easy task, and it will require both of us. We both could perish while attempting it. But, yes. I can bring Sirius back to you."

And that was when Harry, despite all his worries, decided to go along with it. He would never be able to look at himself knowing he had the chance to bring his godfather back and he let it pass him. The thin teenager pocketed his wand and took one more look at the deserted neighbourhood. The silence was unsettling. The darkness, the flickering light, the emptiness. Everything was so devoid of life. Like a ravaging storm of calm, and O'Dimm was at its centre. He felt as if something just beyond the darkness was waiting to pounce on him. And at the same time, as if it tried to seduce him into walking towards it willingly.

_But if I can bring back Sirius, I will take any risk. _

"Alright. Alright, O'Dimm. I'm in. Whatever… _this _is, I'm in."

Master Mirror laughed and somehow managed to relax even more. It was strange how such immense power and mystery rested in someone so inconspicuous.

"I will grant you three wishes. No more, no less. Be warned, my price is high, but easy to pay if you have enough wit."

"And what exactly is your _price_?"

He looked at the teenager surprised, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why, your _soul_! Seriously, lad! You are making a deal at a crossroad on midnight, being given three wishes of your choosing! What did you _think _I will ask for, a sales coupon! C'mon, Harry, you are smarter than this!"

Harry instantly stiffened and his grip on his wand returned, narrowing his eyes. Despite that, in the back of him mind, another thought was forming.

"That doesn't really seem like a fair deal, O'Dimm!"

"And it would most surely not be. But I told you, it is an easy thing for the witty enough. See, I always allow an exit clause in my contracts! A little word play of their choosing, shielding them from me collecting their debt."

"And does it work often?"

"You'd be surprised."

Harry Potter just stood there, thinking. _Do I step away, risk everything and everyone I love, but avoid making a deal that is most likely to end in trouble? Or do I take it, and improvise as I go along? _He knew it should have been an easy decision to make. _You know what, to hell with it! I've been winging it for so long now, it would feel too weird taking a rational decision now all of a sudden. _He could almost hear Ron taking his wand out and joining in the fun too, while Hermione would scream at both of them. Harry finally relaxed, seeming more like himself. More like himself as he seemed in a long time. The prospect of having Sirius back, together with the thrill of the adventure was really starting to get to him. He nodded his head, a small glimpse of a smile starting to appear on his face.

"Okay. So, how does this work? Do you… write a contract, or what?"

O'Dimm seemed thoroughly pleased with himself and gave Harry a bright smile.

"Better. A blood pact, like in the days of old! Look!"

Master Mirror opened his right palm towards Harry, whistling slowly. As he did so, a deep cut appeared on his palm, but he seemed to keep the blood back with his magic. Harry was quite impressed by the display of wandless magic, but then panicked as Gaunter motioned him to do the same.

"Erm… do you think… do you think you can do that cut to me too? I'm not allowed to do magic outside of school, and…"

"Oh, for certain no. You will need to use your magic for the wishes I think you will have. Show me your wand!"

Harry shily extended his wand and O'Dimm placed two fingers on it, looking at it intently and after a few seconds smiling. A feint, white light appeared for a second on the tip of his fingers, and the teenager looked at him mistrustful.

"What did you do?"

"I merely removed the Trace from your wand!"

_What?! _

"How… but… I don't…."

"How eloquent of you, Harry. Truly, a master of oratory. Make sure to give such fiery speeches in the Wizengamot one day!"

"But _how _did you just remove the _Trace_? Just like that?! I hope this isn't some kind of joke!" he said his eyes narrowing, at which Gaunter just rolled his eyes.

"Are we going to waste time discussing technicalities, or are we going to get to work? Just do the cut, Harry!"

He wanted to argue more, but to what end? He already committed to this. His heart racing, and hoping he won't get another howler from the Ministry, he pointed his phoenix core wand at his palm and cast a low powered _Diffindo. _Blood started to immediately come out of the cut, and when he looked at O'Dimm he saw the man already held his hand stretched towards him. The two shook hands, and Harry felt a breeze of cold wind sweeping over him when they touched. Master Mirror too was… cold. It felt as if holding a dead body, and for a moment the teenager felt repulsed and tried to step away, but Gaunter held his hand tightly, looking at him with humour in his eyes the entire time.

"I, Gaunter O'Dimm, otherwise known as Master Mirror, or the Man of Glass, hereby swear to grant one Harry James Potter three wishes of his choosing, anything he wishes for, if his desires are within my capability to grant. In return, I ask for his soul to be mine to do so as I wish. I will allow him to choose when and in what conditions his debt will be repaid, the only exception being in outright refusing to comply with it."

Master Mirror stopped and looked at Harry expectedly, the teen knowing it was his time to speak. He felt a rush of emotions filling him.

"I, Harry James Potter accept my debt to you. You may reclaim it…"

_This is it! I have to spout something ridiculous! This is no riddle; I have to come up with something he can't instrument into happening! I'll die if I don't make this nonsensical enough! _

He looked around, hoping something in his surroundings will inspire him. He was getting quite agitated, eventually looking down on him. O'Dimm noticed his discomfort and only smirked. He grabbed hold of the crumpled letter in his blue jacket, already starting to feel dread at the though that he may have just made a huge mistake. _Wait a minute. Blue jacket. Blue! Ravenclaw! Of course, the Houses! _He grinned and looked up at Master Mirror, speaking quite confidently.

"… You may reclaim it when a dying raven tries to kill a lion with the blood of a serpent and I have trapped you in a black cell with the aid of those weaker than myself!"

In that moment, sparks of pure, white light came out of their touching palms and Master Mirror quickly retracted his hand, Harry following suit. He searched his palm, wanting to heal his cut, but to his surprise, the injury was all gone! He ran his fingers over where it once was, not even seeing the faintest scar. It was O'Dimm that pulled him out of his surprise.

"So, Harry. The wishes. I assume the first one will involve Sirius Black, am I right?"

The teenager looked at him dazzled, then regained composure and merely nodded.

"Yes. My first wish is to return Sirius to me. My second wish is that no one I care about will die in the fight with Voldemort. And for my last wish, I want Voldemort dead."

Master Mirror stood there, deep in thought, listening. Once Harry stopped talking, he remained silent for a few moments, then spoke solemnly.

"The second one is easy to accomplish. You won't have to worry about it. The first one has every chance in the world to go horribly wrong, but if we play our cards right, we could still achieve it by the time the night is over. As for the third, it is once more something I will need your aid with."

Harry nodded, suddenly feeling energetic and excited. By the time the night is over? He could barely contain himself at the thought! At that point, he would have gone along with anything Master Mirror told him to do.

"The third one… killing Riddle. It will be tedious. Tell me, have you ever heard of a piece of magic called Horcrux?"

He frowned, trying to remember the word. No matter how much he tried, he just couldn't place it.

"No, I don't think so. What is it?"

O'Dimm smirked. "Not a fan of soul magic, then?"

_Soul Magic? Crap, this can't be good. _

"Too much Arithmancy for my tastes" he said drily.

"Surely" the man answered in equal manner. "A Horcrux is a very obscure application of Soul Magic. It is essentially a _soul shard_. You split your soul in two, generally through murder, then perform some ridiculously complicated rituals to remove half your soul and place it in a container of your choice. The idea is that in doing so, you essentially become_ immortal_."

_Oh, this is even worse than I thought! You gotta be kidding me! _

Harry tried to remain focused, tapping his chin with his wand and looking gravely at O'Dimm. His heart started beating faster at the thought of an immortal Voldemort. _How could Dumbledore ever expect me to beat him? _

"How many did he make?"

Gaunter looked intrigued at his wording. "How did you figure out he made more than one?"

Harry just sighed and rolled his eyes.

"It's quite in tone with my usual luck for things to go as disastrous as possible. How many?"

Master Mirror chuckled and shook his head. "Seven. Seven Horcruxes. A remarkably idiotic thing to do, given that a Horcrux is one of the few pieces of magic that has very real and dangerous degenerative effect, both physical and mental."

_In that case, the more the merrier. If the Horcruxes weakened Voldemort and he is still at this level, we would have all been dead already if he made any less._

"I take it you know where they are?"

"Of course. And we don't have to worry about all of them anymore. One, is his childhood diary. You already destroyed it during your second year of schooling."

Harry was shocked at the revelation that the diary that possessed Ginny was a Horcrux, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. The thing was just too insidious to have been the result of mere enchantments. Too _alive. _

"The other is the old ring worn by the lords of House Gaunt. That is, Riddle's maternal relatives..."

"WHAT?!"

O'Dimm stopped and looked at Harry, as the teenager looked around as if expecting someone to come out of the darkness and tell him he didn't just hear what he thought he did. _But that means! _Unfortunately, he did not manage to see the vicious and feral grin on Master Mirror's face as he observed the teenager's distress.

"What's the problem?" he asked gently.

"If he is a descendant of House Gaunt it means... _Gaunts _and _Potters _intermarried for centuries! Before their different ideals became too much of a friction between them! I... it... _we must be related!" _

Gaunter looked at him nonchalantly and just shrugged.

"So? All you Purebloods are related. How long ago was the last time a Gaunt married a Potter?"

Harry closed his eyes and frowned in concentration, trying to remember. "Erm... some centuries ago, before the Statute of Secrecy."

"So then why are you so concerned? It's not like the man is your first cousin or uncle, you just share some ancestors!"

The teenager rubbed his temples and calmed himself a bit more. He knew O'Dimm was right, but the revelation of being related with _Voldemort, _the man who killed his parents, the most dreaded Dark Lord Britain ever faced, no matter how remote their connection made Harry somehow feel dirtier. As if there was a taint about him which he knew he had no way of ever removing.

"Back to the matter at hand. Your Headmaster already destroyed the ring earlier this Summer. Next, we have Salazar Slytherin's locket. Another family heirloom of the Gaunts. Riddle hid it in a cave, surrounded by a rather ingenuous set of traps. Luckily for us, it was stolen by one Regulus Black and hid at Grimmauld Place. If all goes well with your Sirius, we will destroy it tonight. Another is Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem. It's at Hogwarts, in that old room you used for your little militia last year. It's a sitting duck, just waiting for you and me to kill it. Then, we have Helga Hufflepuff's cup. It's in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault, at Gringotts. Sitting duck, same as with the diadem. The last two will be more problematic, I suppose. Nagini, the snake that is always in Riddle's company. And the final one is, well, you."

_What?!_

"What… no. No! I am _not _a Horcrux, this is absurd! What the hell are you talking about!"

"You _are_, albeit an accidental one. And technically, it's just your scar that's the Horcrux. Usually, getting rid of it would consist in killing you and hoping only the soul-shard dies. You could die, naturally. Or instead of you coming back into your body, it could be the soul-shard, now fully alive and sentient. But fret not, for I have a plan! And if it works, you will be rid of your pesky companion by the time Sirius is saved!"

Harry was hyperventilating, trying to keep up with what O'Dimm was saying. He felt his whole world coming to an end when he heard he was a Horcrux, then felt once more the small glimmer of hope dangling before his eyes.

_"__How?"_

"I told you. Sirius is not dead. He merely walked through a door. A pesky door, true, one which makes death a rather gentle affair in comparison. But a door, nonetheless. And where that door opens, we may still retrieve him from. Having an extra soul to bargain with will be in our favor once we arrive."

"Hold on, slower. You say the Veil is a door. But… _where does it open to? _And _who _would we bargain with?"

"I will tell you. For now, go home. Write a letter, detailing what and where the Horcruxes are. If we do not return, your Headmaster will find it and finish the deed. In the meantime, I will fulfil your second wish."

Harry only nodded and ran off towards Privet Drive without even saying a goodbye. He had too many questions swirling in his head to properly focus on one. Voldemort's background, Sirius, him being a Horcrux, Master Mirror himself. He felt uneasy at that thought. He read so many stories about deals like that which ended in disaster. _But is he really bad? He seems like a pretty friendly guy. _

_Famous last words, Potter; _he thought drily.

It wasn't as if he had much of a choice now. He signed up for the deal, and he was going to see it through.

_Dumbledore already knows about the Horcruxes though, so was this really worth it? _

Doubts encroached upon every thought he had, but thankfully he managed to beat them back and keep his head clear. When he finally reached his house he looked at it in disgust, but continued nonetheless. At the very least the Dursleys chose to ignore him as much as possible, which suited him just fine. He reached out towards his pocket, looking for the keys, and then he realized. _I can do magic! _A huge grin appearing on his face, he drew his wand, opening the door with a barely whispered _Alohomora! _He advanced slowly through the almost unnaturally ordered and tidy house, going up to his room.

It was only when he sat down and picked up a bit of parchment and a quill that he gravity of what he was doing really hit him. _Bloody hell, I'm writing a letter in case I die tonight! _He paused, suddenly not finding any good words to put down. With a growing feeling of emptiness in his stomach, he scrambled up a letter to Professor Dumbledore, detailing the situation with the Horcruxes and his deal with Master Mirror. That one alone was hard enough, but his mind went totally blank at the next one.

**_Dear Ron and Hermione, _**

_I just made a deal with someone, possibly a demon, and now we are going to retrieve my dead godfather from the after world. Yeah, good one, Potter. I can almost hear Hermione shouting. I wonder if the living can haunt the dead too, because she will definitely get on the warpath for me. _

He started, threw away, and restarted that letter nine times. Every time, his words failed him. Eventually, he put down a couple of lines, trying to think on all they shared in the past. It was harder than he thought. It was strange. He was far from a stranger when it came to dangerous situations, but he never felt as paralyzed as he did now. Maybe it was the whole thing just now starting to dawn on him, or maybe it was the first time when he fully realized the magnitude of what he was doing. After seeing Cedric and Sirius die before his own eyes, it was as if something in him just _clicked. _It wasn't just old stories and school adventures anymore. _I'm in a war. And I could die at any moment. _He put his quill down once more, the thought starting to really hit him. _This is really a war. _

"Trouble with your letters?"

He instantly grabbed his wand and pointed it towards the sound. O'Dimm stood right below the door's threshold, looking at him. He had a rather eerie presence, in the barely lit room in the middle of the night. Harry did his best to push back his worries and lowered his wand.

"Yeah. I just don't know what to tell them."

Master Mirror stood below the threshold, nodding. For some reason, the teenager felt increasingly terrified by him, the light in the hallway lit him up in a way that made him look as if he was made out of pitch blackness from where Harry was sitting. Suddenly dreading to even raise his eyes at him, he just invited the man to sit down on his bed. He nodded and took his seat, opening his leather pouch and pulling out a dusty bottle. It was not too large, with a spherical shape and a long, thin neck. Along the spherical portion of it were beautiful inlays of gold, in various geometrical shapes. O'Dimm blew the dust away, making Harry cough vigorously in the process. He then removed the cork and handed the bottle to Harry, which took it hesitantly.

"That's from a land I visited a very long time ago. I quite miss it, sometimes. My departure was on a slightly sour note, though I made some good memories along the way. Try it, it's good."

Harry thought it would be rude to refuse, so he took a small sip, then immediately regret it. That brew packed quite a punch! It was sweet and spicy all at the same time, all blended together by strong alcohol.

"What _is _that?"

Gaunter just smiled and put the bottle back in his pouch.

"Mahakaman mead! A quite popular drink from a far away land called Mahakam. A mountainous kingdom where gold is almost as plentiful as water is in an ocean!"

Harry's knowledge on Magical history was an area where, ashamed as he was to admit, he really had little to no expertise. He gave up on it the first time he had a class with his ghost-professor Binns, and his unnatural obsession with Goblin Rebellions.

"I never heard of it. Where is this place?"

"Ah, when I say far away, I really mean it, young man" he said happily. "It takes some very special skill to navigate there safely."

The man appeared lost in thought for a few moments, then he stood up and Harry put down his quill and did the same.

"We really should get going."

He nodded and picked up a backpack he already had prepared for Dumbledore's arrival. "Where to, exactly?"

Gaunter smiled, and in that moment, Harry felt a strange sensation of weightlessness, and the world around him starting fading out of existence, all colours, shapes and smells merging into a strange blur. It only took a second for the terrifying blur to start breaking up, but from it appeared new shapes, new colours and new smells. Harry felt a sudden realization, figuring out exactly where they were!

"The Ministry! We're at the Ministry of Magic!"

"Yes. Do you think you can say that a bit louder though, I think the guards in Azkaban didn't quite hear you yet!"

He threw O'Dimm a dirty look as he kept examining the wide, black hallway, filled with chimneys every three meters of so. Every once in a while, the Floo would activate and some sleepy witch or wizard would leave the building, surrounded by tall, green flames.

"Can we even Apparate in here?! What the hell are we doing here, and won't they see us?!"

"Everything is under…" O'Dimm then clapped his hands loudly, smiling as he looked around. Harry's heart froze at the sight in front of him. Everything stopped! EVERYTHING. STOPPED. _HE CAN STOP TIME! _Everyone was fixed in place, one old witch even stuck halfway through the Floo, the flames too appearing forever frozen in place. His heart was racing at an increasingly fast pace.

_Oh, no. This is bad. This is really bad. _

"Are you out of your mind?! You stopped freaking time itself just so we can sneak through?! Don't you know that terrible things happen to wizards that meddle with time?! What the… This is your brilliant plan, time travelling?!"

Master Mirror was totally unperturbed by his companion's outburst. He let him finish and then replied calmly.

"To answer in order: We can't Apparate in here, but that's of no consequence, because what _I _did was not Apparition. We are here so we can retrieve your Sirius Black, and no, they obviously can't see us since they are frozen in time. My plan does _not _involve _time _travel. And between you and me, Harry, you should not believe what your Granger told you about time travel, mainly because she should not believe what she was told about it either. Do you _actually _believe that if the slightest error with a Time-Turner could cause the collapse of reality itself, they would give such power to _children?_ No matter how good a student they are. If you truly believed that, I must have severely misjudged you, young man."

Even though he knew he shouldn't have, he felt quite embarrassed upon hearing that. O'Dimm must have noticed too, because he just shook his head amusedly and strolled on. Harry still looked around in awe and terror both. Even as they passed the great statues in the atrium, he still could not believe his eyes. Everything was becoming increasingly surreal, and he felt more and more that he finally bit more than he could chew. More to fill the silence, he started talking.

"So… the Veil is a door. Where to?"

Master Mirror gave him a short look, then continued looking ahead. They were heading towards the elevators, surely.

"There is far more to the world than even Wizards know. There are… _gates. _Scattered across the planet. I know of only three. One is at your dear Hogwarts. Somewhere deep in the forest near the castle. I know not where it leads. Another is in Sweden, at a place called _Gamla Uppsala_. I have a theory as to where it opens, and trust me. You would have to be literally insane, stupidly brave, or some combination of both to attempt going through it. The third one is here. It is also the only one that is still active. It leads to a thoroughly unpleasant place I sincerely wish I never have the misfortune to visit after I'm done with you. It is called _Helheim_. A realm of death, so far from Earth that you could not even see its star on the night sky if you looked without any machines to aid you."

O'Dimm stopped when he noticed his companion was no longer with him. He looked around with a curious expression, then made a small sound of relief when he saw Harry a few steps behind him. The teenager looked at him with an absolute dumbstruck expression.

_"__Helheim?" _As in, _Norse mythology Helheim?! _Which is actually another planet on which we will meet… what? Aliens, right? You are lying! You have no idea what you are doing! If I didn't see you do that time trick I'd even imagine you are a Death Eater trying to fool me into flinging myself into the Death Veil. Hel-bloody-heim!"

When he finished, Gaunter started letting out a guttural laugh, which annoyed Harry even more. He shouldn't have ignored his gut feelings about this!

"So, a medieval castle where you learn magic and break every single law of Physics on a daily basis, all while surrounded by ghosts and other reality warping defenses is a perfectly acceptable fact of life for you, but other life forms existing in the galaxy is where you draw the line? I have to say Harry, for most people it would be the other way around!"

_Well, when you put it like that…_

"That's not the point, there is just…"

"…Only one way to find out. No?"

Begrudgingly and in a full display of his age, Harry followed along, not bothering to ask any more questions. The possibility, no matter how remote, of getting Sirius back made him not turning tail and going back home. As if sensing his annoyance, O'Dimm started talking again, not letting him savour even a minute of peace.

"Only three wizards still know of these gates. Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel and Albus Dumbledore. Through out time, many others knew, or at least suspected it. But that is neither here nor there. What matters to you, is knowing what we will deal with on the other side."

Gaunter peered back at him, looking at him intently.

"How are your fire spells?"

_Why in Merlin's name would that matter?_

"Good, I guess. I know a handful of fire-based curses, and I can always fall back on _Incendio. _Why?"

"Because fire will hurt them most. If we face anything larger than that Hungarian Horntail you so delightfully outmaneuvered in your fourth year, we do not engage it. We _run. _As fast as we can. I will conjure illusions and transport us away, if possible."

Harry felt a malicious grin appear on his face. The thought of Gaunter O'Dimm being _scared _of something was surprisingly pleasant to him.

"Not scared, are you?"

"I'm simply no_ fool_. Harry, the _beings_ that are in charge of Helheim waged wars across the galaxy while your kind didn't even figure out how to make fire. For them, Magic holds no more secrets. Be careful with them. And let _me _do the talking!"

Eventually, the unlikely pair made their way down into the Department of Mysteries, O'Dimm opening any door they came across without any difficulty. Harry felt a rush of memories assault him as he made his way through the black marble corridors.

_This is where I got Sirius killed, _he thought grimly.

"I did a huge mistake last time I was here…"

O'Dimm merely nodded without looking back.

"_Yes_." That one word cut deeper into Harry than all the years he spent with the Dursleys or the murder plots Voldemort tried. "And it is also where you will make it right."

_If only I listened! If only I thought twice! _Harry became increasingly absent minded as they walked through the frozen in time corridors. He would just close his eyes and hope he wont bump into anything. He imagined how life would have been if only he was more careful. Would he have gone straight to Grimmauld once school ended? Or would have Dumbledore taken him there in two days? Either way, they would have been together. Probably go at the Burrow to play Quidditch.

It all got too much when they eventually reached the tall, grim looking arch sitting in the middle of a deserted, circular room. He dropped his wand and almost ran through the Veil the moment he saw it. O'Dimm turned around and looked at him curiously, but remained silent.

_Merlin, this is where I killed the only family I ever had! _

"Are we doing this?"

Harry tried his best to calm himself down and eventually managed to pick up his wand and walk next to Master Mirror.

_Man up, Potter. This is just like back in second year when you went after Ginny. Except… this time it's another planet. _

"Business as usual" he muttered more to himself, but O'Dimm heard him and merely rolled his eyes.

"Keep your wand ready and your wits sharp."

The two took in the grim arch one more time. Despite the entire Ministry being frozen in time, the arch seemed to still be active. A strange, translucid mist filled its stone edges, and countless, hypnotic whispers made themselves heard when near it. After receiving a nod from Master Mirror, he took a deep breath, closed his eyes and took a step forward.

The first thing he felt next was _pain. _Pain as he has never felt before. Even Voldemort's Cruciatus felt more like a Tingling Charm for which he longed for now that he experienced _this. _He felt as if every inch of his body was torn apart with untamed hatred, his nails ripped off and every hair on his body plucked out. Then, he realized he no longer had any kind of control over his body. He no longer _felt _his body! All that remained was the pain. He could not even move his eyes, having to take the full blunt of the blinding lights that now made up the world around him. He could almost feel them burning his eyes away, a horrifying tunnel of colored light. The flashing lights of the rainbow was all that remained of reality in that space.

Harry no longer had any notion of time or its passing. He would not be able to tell if what passed since he crossed the Veil was an eternity or mere seconds. What he did know, however, was that one should never assume that things can't become even worse than they are. Because worse they became. He felt as if every piece of his decomposed body was hastily thrown together, and then hit with a giant, cold hammer. The moment the hammer hit, he felt a deafening sound, and the world went blank.

The next thing Harry Potter felt was his limbs. Then his body violently hitting some kind of rocks as it was flung from some great height. Then, to make matters worse, he felt _coldness. _It took all the strength he had left to open his eyes.

"O'Dimm! O'Dimm, where are you?"

"Here!"

He barely heard the man's voice through the violent gushes of wind. Harry cast the strongest warming charm he could on himself and then looked around. They appeared to be on some large, circular square made of white stone, which was levitating high above the covered in snow mountains below. The sky above had a strange, green color, somehow feeling heavy and angry at the intruders.

"This is _horrible!_" Harry shouted.

"This is _Helheim._"

"What's this stench?!"

They both felt it the moment they landed. There was a horrible smell of rotting flesh filling the air. Harry could barely keep himself from throwing up letting the wind sweep him away. He would never understand how Master Mirror seemed completely unperturbed by their surroundings.

"Melt the snow! I have a theory!"

Harry looked at him intently, but since the man had no intention of explaining himself, the teenager merely shrugged and raised his wand and shouted _Calidum Circa! _A bulb of orange light appeared at the tip of his wand, and suddenly, all the snow around them turned into water, instantly being flushed away over the edges of the floating square and wetting Harry's clothes, who cursed vigorously as he dried himself with his wand. What he saw next made him lose the little composure he managed to muster and simply screamed and then threw up.

"Well, this is surely _unexpected_ and quite anticlimactic." said O'Dimm, that merely looked around intently at the sea of _dead bodies _that filled the entire square. Most of them still had flesh on them, albeit rotten, filled with various smelling boils, or with marks of burns and scratches. Many lacked limbs, some had their heads bashed in, almost all of them being mutilated in some way or another.

Harry tried to keep himself moving, to touch the disgusting bodies as little as possible, and it took Master Mirror restraining him to keep him from accidentally falling over the edge of the square.

"What… what happened here?!"

He managed to calm himself enough to think clearly, but his entire body was shaking and screaming at him for going in that place.

"These warriors… the ones with the black and orange robes. They are _Einherjar. Odin's Army. _The others…" O'Dimm pointed towards some hideous creatures, more skeletons than man, with bits of rotten flesh on their limbs and long, revolting hair growing straight out of their skull "…Are called _Draugr. _A variation of Inferius. Less powerful, but more resilient and easier to make."

_Inferius? Odin? Good one, Potter! Got yourself in the middle of a war between gods. If I make it out of here, this will really be one to tell the kids about. _

Harry hugged himself, the cold wind starting to break through his charms.

"Why… why were they fighting? And how will we find Sirius?"

O'Dimm merely looked around, trying to find enough clues to piece together what could have possibly occurred there. He motioned towards Harry to follow him, the two advancing towards a narrow bridge going deep into a tunnel, inside a much higher mountain peak, standing tall over the other mountains below. The teenager felt disgusted feeling the dead bodies touch his feet, and cursed inwardly at every step. Whatever caused the battle between those two armies, it must have been a true massacre.

"I know this is the realm of the dead, but... is it supposed to be so... you know."

_"Dead?"_ O'Dimm asked drily. "No. No, this is a ruin. Something horrible must happened on Helheim. And it involved Odin somehow."

Harry still could not believe they were talking about the actual Norse god. Even as he walked the surface of that barren, cold, Sun-less void of a planet, he still had trouble believing it.

"What could have been?"

"The _Aesir, _the race of wizards and witches of which Odin is part of is proud beyond what's good for them, and equally powerful. Still... this seems too big, even for their usual spats. There is only one thing I know of that would lead to the destruction of a planet. But if _that _happened, it... it raises some intriguing questions. About a great many things."

Harry would have wanted a less cryptic answer, but decided not to push. He instead focused again on his surroundings. The walls of the tunnel surrounding the bridge seemed to have once had beautiful relief carvings on them, though it seemed that the violent battle chipped away large chunks of the magnificent art. Harry could still make out some of the general motifs. Large armies crossing over a bridge of gold, tree branches, and some sort of chained figures being presented to someone. He also noticed Runic arrays and inscriptions, but he could not understand them.

_If only Hermione was here. _

"This place was once beautiful." Gaunter's comment pulled him out of his reverie. "The carvings were enchanted to move. The bridge would light up in the colors of the rainbow, like the famous _Bifrost Bridge. _There were gold statues throughout this entire place, all the way towards the palace."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the solemn tone of his companion.

"You knew people here?" he asked gently.

"Only in passing. But Harry, I have travelled roads and distances you would not even be able to comprehend. I have never encountered a people that has achieved more than the ones that ruled this part of the galaxy. And for _that, _young man, they have my respect."

"I see."

"As for your Sirius, there are two roads we can take. If the one that rules this realm still lives, we go on with the original plan and bargain with her. She is a formidable adversary. Let me do the talking. If she died then… then…"

Harry felt his annoyance rising. Not only did the man not deign to tell him what the _original plan _was in the first place, but now he was stalling. _What have I got myself into? _

"Then what?"

"Then Sirius Black will be the least of our worries. Because without the Queen of Helheim, we will have no one to open the Bifrost for us. We will be stuck here."

His heart tightened at the words. He couldn't even imagine what being stuck in that frozen wasteland would mean. His only thoughts were now about his friends, wondering how they would react at his disappearance.

For the next hour or so, the two companions made their way through large, deserted halls, filled with dead bodies. They passed by tall columns made of pure gold, statues of fierce warriors and large doors with beautiful inlays made of gold, silver and gemstones. Eventually, they reached a magnificent gate, before whom stood a horde of dead Einherjars.

"She lives."

Harry looked at him curiously, looking around and trying to deduce how he came to that conclusion. When he eventually asked how the man knew that, he only replied with _Magic leaves traces. _

"Point your wand at the doors and open them. And remember, let _me _do the talking!"

The teenager could only nod and quickly did as he was told. He held his breath as the doors opened with a loud screeching sound. They advanced through a wide, empty hall, surrounded entirely by windows. At the end of the room was a hideous throne which appeared to be made of pieces of human bodies! The sight made Harry sick to his stomach, but what he saw next was truly the worst sight he ever laid eyes on during his entire life.

On the death throne stood a tall woman, with bright white hair and skin more wrinkled than Harry even thought possible. She had long nails and tattered rags as clothes. But what was most striking about her was that the entire right side of her body was _dead! _The flesh was rotting away, her eye socket was empty, and she barely had any teeth left! There seemed to be a contrasting smell emanating from her, her live side smelling of roses and various flower, while the dead side smelt like a rotting body. She stood hunchback on her throne and peered at the two visitors. Her remaining eye had a pale, silver color with a tinge of blue near the iris.

"You must be either very stupid or very powerful to dare bring that _creature_ to my domain, _blood of Pavarmud!_"

The disembodied voice was hoarse and filled the room like a thunder. Harry could not even see the _being _in front of him move her lips while she spoke. Her voice felt as if it penetrated deep into his mind, sending shivers down his spines.

"Queen Hela!" O'Dimm said smoothly, while bowing his head. The being did not even acknowledge him, instead continuing to stare at Harry, who felt increasingly uneasy at the sight in front of him.

"Why… why do you call me blood of Pavarmud?" he asked shakily, despite Master Mirror's advice not to speak.

"_Stupid _it is, then." She had a look of utter distaste on her face, or at least as much distaste as her living half could muster. "Perhaps, _Peverell_ will be more familiar to you?"

_Peverell? That sounds familiar. _Harry remembered seeing the name mentioned in a wizarding genealogy book he read a couple of years ago. He knew that the mysterious family married into the Potter and Gaunt lines, spurring a wave of intermarriages among the two families up until the early XVI century or so.

"It… I know the name, and that they are my ancestors. But why call me that?"

O'Dimm straightened and intervened smoothly. "That is neither here nor there. Queen Hela, we came seeking you…"

"_Silence, creature!_" She hit her throne with her living fist, making a thunderous noise across the room which prompted Harry to cover his ears. "You will speak when you are addressed!" Master Mirror clearly did not appreciate her words, as his entire demeanor changed, his features becoming sharper and his eyes showing a venom which made Harry's blood freeze. "Now, _Peverell. _I call you that because you carry one of my old creations. Show it to me one more time, human. My Cloak. My _Invisibility Cloak_."

With a shaky hand and more questions than he thought he will have, he took out the smooth cloak from his backpack, advancing towards Hela with his eyes on the ground. He could not bare look at her any longer, as the sight of the half dead woman filled with him with terror. He flinched when he sensed her dead hand running over the Cloak and for the first time in his life he felt a strong revulsion to his last connection with his family.

"This is part of a set. A set I gifted to three young wizards a _very _long time ago. They spent their lives in search of my people and were the only ones that have ever actually been successful in their pursuit. As a gift, I personally fashioned three gifts for them. Thee gifts, for three brothers."

_Wait a minute. _Harry froze. _I heard this story before! _

"Only the Peverell Brothers have ever truly mastered my gifts. Unravel their secrets. All that owned them afterwards merely had suppositions and theories. Young Peverell. You have done a mistake putting your faith in the creature that accompanies you. I hope you know what you are doing."

"Queen Hela" O'Dimm interjected quickly "We are here for one Sirius Black. He accidentally fell through a gate opening to your domain recently. We would like to negotiate his return."

Hela let out an animalic growl.

"_Humans _used the last open gate they have as a convenient execution method. _Filthy breed, Midgardians! _To treat the domains of an _Aesir _as if they are your personal trash bin! _My domains!" _Hela's wrath seemed to really hit a stride now, as the room started shaking and her voice contorted into a savage screech. "_I, Queen of Death! I, _who have brought extinction to entire planets by merely walking amongst them! _I, _creator of pestilence! How I long to once more show your insolent kin the _true _meaning of power! Neither those _second-rate tricks _you dare call Magic, nor those pathetic Muggle contraptions could stand a chance even in the face of the weakest of the _Aesir! _And you, _Peverell, _you parade into my home, bringing with you that foul filth your ancestors wisely imprisoned, and you expect _me _to give you what you wish?! Tell me, _boy, _what could you possibly give to me as compensation for my generosity?"

_What does she mean, my ancestors imprisoned O'Dimm?!_

Master Mirror sensed his hesitation and spoke up. "A soul for a soul, mighty Queen! Your Peverell carries with him the shard of another. One which, I dare say, you may be interested in as well. The soul shard belongs to one Tom _Marvolo _Riddle. It is yours to do so as you wish, if you give us back the soul of one Sirius Black!"

Hela stood silently for a moment and observed them, then broke into a sinister laugh. Harry felt disgusted seeing pieces of rotting flesh falling off her as she laughed.

"Oh, Peverell. The creature cheated you _twice _tonight, and he tries to do it a third! You want the soul of one Sirius Black?" Harry kept looking at both of them, feeling increasingly wary of O'Dimm, which appeared more and more feral. _I've done a huge mistake. _"Sirius Black lived and died centuries ago. Who you are looking for is Sirius _Orion _Black! And you say you want his _soul_, creature? Oh, but the Queen of Death can do so much better than just his soul!"

Hela then snapped her living fingers and a powerful lightning appeared in front of her, making Harry cover his eyes. The burst of blue light only lasted a few moments, and his heart stopped when he heard a man's voice coughing and muttering curses under his breath. _Sirius! _He slowly opened his eyes and looked at him. He looked exactly as he did at the battle in the Department of Mysteries! When he calmed down and saw Harry, he immediately started tearing up and tried taking in every detail of his godson. The teenager paused for a few moments then ran up to him, hugging him tightly.

"Sirius!"

The still dazzled man grabbed Harry's head in his arms and looked at him as if trying to figure out if this wasn't just a cruel prank being played on him. "How are you here?! Harry, did you jump into the Veil?!" His expression changed at that thought and turned furious. "Merlin's beard, Harry! How could you do something so monumentally stupid as to jump into the _Veil of Death_?! And who the bloody hell is _he?!_" He pointed a finger at the still feral looking O'Dimm.

"Sirius, not now! I promise I'll explain when we get home!" He broke from his embrace and turned towards Hela. "I… thank you. Your Majesty!" He felt his cheeks redden, certain that he added the last part way too quickly. The Aesir queen merely looked pleased with herself and turned towards Master Mirror.

"Anything the matter, _creature_?"

Gaunter O'Dimm steeled himself and adopted his charming smile. Or at least he tried to, as every muscle in his face emanated pure and undistilled rage. "Not at all, Queen Hela! This is, after all, why me and Harry are here. Now, the only remaining matter is appealing to you to allow us to return to Midgard."

Hela looked at him scornfully, but then nodded her head slightly. She motioned them to group together, O'Dimm merely remaining put, while Harry, still holding onto Sirius, had to almost drag him next to Master Mirror. The wizard was looking at the bald man with a mixture of anger, curiosity and fear. "You _will _explain this to me when we get home, Harry!" he whispered in his ear. He placed an arm over his nephew, while keeping his other one free and ready to grip his wand holstered on his forearm and protect him from O'Dimm.

Hela stretched her dead hand towards Harry, sparks of deep, sinister purple light flying off her fingertips. The teenager instantly felt a strong pain centered around his scar and fell to his knees, screaming. Sirius immediately kneeled beside him, trying to comfort him and asking him what's wrong. He looked up furiously at Hela, but he had been in that cold realm for long enough to know better than to just lunge at her. Slowly, a small, sickly green sphere of light emerged out of his forehead. He felt like pressing his hands on his forehead, as if to stop the bleeding of a deep wound, but he noticed that he could no longer move his limbs. It took less than a minute for the green orb to fully leave the teenager, and it then darted between Hela's fingers. She studied it curiously, then _smiled _at O'Dimm. A vicious, feral, nightmarish smile that will forever haunt the sleep of both Harry and Sirius. While the two wizards made themselves as small as possible, terrified to the bone, Master Mirror merely looked stoically at the Aesir and nodded his head. The Queen turned her horrible face towards Harry and spoke in a chilling tone.

"_Peverell_. Do not trust the one that calls himself the _Man of Glass_. When I send you home, say this to the first wizard you see. _Besides Sirius." _She added the last part as if she just remembered her earlier assessment of Harry's level of intelligence after seeing that he entered a deal with O'Dimm. "Say these words, precisely: _cheat death once. _Remember them!"

Harry wanted to thank her once more, but the being waved both her hands, joining them in a clap which let out a loud, high pitched bang. The next moment, the three men were enveloped in pure light, flashing in all the colors of the rainbow. Harry and Sirius both braced themselves for the incoming pain, which hit them both with unrelenting fury.

Neither knew how long the journey took, but they both hit the wooden floor of Grimmauld with a powerful noise. The two wizards groaned and slowly picked themselves up from the floor. They were in the Black Family Tapestry Room, which was now even dustier than Harry remembered it. Outside, through a small crack in the deep green curtains, he saw the Sun was already up. The moment he got up, he just hugged Sirius tightly, but somehow managed to not shed a single tear. He was so glad to be back home!

"Harry…" Sirius's voice was feint, the man still clearly feeling the pain from the journey. "Harry, what just happened? And who is that wizard you were with?"

"I'm quite interested in hearing the answer to that question too, mister Potter."

They both looked up at the door, where stood a clearly distressed Albus Dumbledore, his wand ready to fire. His face was a strange mixture of curiosity, worry and cautiousness. Then his face contorted into pure shock as he looked at Harry and _saw. _He saw what was _missing. _The famous lightning shaped scar on his forehead was gone!

**Author notes: I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I had quite a few ideas floating around in my mind for how Sirius's rescue would play out. In the end, I choose to along with this one because all the fics I have read involving the Hallows and the afterlife involved either an esoteric take slightly inspired from Christian dogma or the bureaucracy riddled office filled with files and expensive suits. I wanted to go with something I haven't seen used as much. And since Pagan tradition is much more pregnant in my Potterverse than in canon, and I am personally very fond of Norse mythology, here we are. Still, it's not something I'm 100% sure with, and I'd like your thoughts on it. ATM, I dont plan on expanding on the Aesir or travelling across the ream though. Also, I feel like this chapter is more upbeat and dialogue-oriented than the previous ones. While I dont know if the dialogue part is that much of a problem, this fic surely does not aim for an "upbeat" tone. I only wanted Harry to feel at ease with O'Dimm, at least enough to actually go along with his schemes. Well, that's about it for this chapter. I hope you like the "soundtrack" too! See you guys back withing the week! **


	5. Of stories and journeys

**Okay, right off the bat, I wanna apologize for the long delay. I had to deal with college exams and an otherwise pretty hectic time. Now it's all done and updating should come back to the weekly format. I actually wrote this chapter a few days ago, but when i went back to finish and post it, I decided it sucks so I rewrote the entire thing this weekend. I hope you like it. I made sure it's a really big one, as kind of a peace offering for screwing up the update schedule. Make sure to leave a review and have fun! Oh, and almost forgot! I own neither Harry Potter nor The Witcher and am only doing this for fun. **

Dumbledore and Harry stood silently and watched Sirius drink yet another potion, while muttering darkly under his breath. The time he spent in Helheim seemed to have taken quite a toll on him. He was weaker, both physically and magically, thinner, and seemed to have difficulty in remembering how to properly use his limbs. He did not know much from his time spent in the Realm of the Dead. He only remembered living in a house identical to Grimmauld, although the view outside the windows was one of a desolate, icy wastelands. He could not leave the house, and he was completely alone. Not even the portraits would talk to him. Every once in a while, he would work himself into a panic, being sure he could hear voices, once even hearing his mother, Walburga. But every time he ran to investigate, nobody nor anything was to be found. Seeing large, menacing shadows always in the corner of his eyes certainly did not help his mental state.

Harry looked sadly at his godfather, his heart sinking more and more with each passing second. He never saw him so skittish, not even when he was still fresh out of Azkaban. He would look at the two wizards, then randomly turn towards his sides, screaming and shaking, certain that he saw one of the shadows that loomed over him in Helheim's Grimmauld. It took a great deal of potions and charms to calm him down into a somewhat stable state.

Once that happened, Albus turned towards Harry expectedly, conjuring the boy a comfortable armchair with a silent flick of the wrist. Harry, in turn, began feeling increasingly nervous. It was a foolish hope, of course, but he hoped he could delay this as much as possible.

"Do you wish to tell this tale yourself, Harry, or will it be easier if I asked questions and you answered?"

His tone was polite and tried to be reassuring, but anyone that knew the old Headmaster would have noticed he lacked his usual patience and calm demeanour. The young wizard threw a fugitive glance at Sirius, hoping to find support, but he too looked at him with a mixture of gratitude, concern and curiosity.

"Well, it started earlier tonight…"

And so, he began. Both wizards listened patiently, though Sirius was only silent because of how ill he felt rather than because he did not feel like interrupting his godson and screaming at him for his remarkably stupid choices. Albus on the other hand, stood absolutely still, his face betraying no emotion. Harry finished his tale, conveniently letting out the part where he learned that _he _was a Horcrux, and overall keeping the mention of them to his own. When he was done, he looked up and seeing Dumbledore's penetrating gaze he could only lower his eyes. It was Sirius that broke the silence.

"Harry, I know I told you that you should take more risks… but kid, of all the stupid things…"

"I know, Sirius. I just…" He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. "…I just couldn't have lived with myself if I let this chance pass." He choose not to mention how he blamed himself for Sirius's death to begin with. He knew the other two would try to convince him otherwise, and he did not want to hear it. _I plunged head first into an obvious trap. It was my fault he died. _

"Harry, you said this entity presented itself as _Master Mirror_?" the Headmaster asked slowly. _He is worried. Deeply. And this isn't like when he is worried about Voldemort, this is something else, _thought Harry. The boy only nodded in response.

"How extraordinary…" the wizard muttered.

"And what exactly is so extraordinary about it, Albus?" asked Sirius weakly. The Headmaster stood silent for a few moments, seemingly lost in thought, before turning to him and answering.

"I have heard that term before, though did not care much for it then. A long time ago, when I was just starting my Mastery in Transfiguration."

Harry and Sirius looked at each other. "From whom, professor?"

"My old head of House. Harry, this new turn of events is… very troubling. More so, perhaps, than you imagine. We must deal with this entity, just as we must deal with Tom."

Harry froze when he heard those words. So far, he managed to turn the story in a way that made no mention of his status as ex-Horcrux. It was something he wanted to keep to himself, even he himself forget it if possible.

"You mentioned in your letter that one of them is here. The locket?"

The teenager's eyes widened and he spluttered incoherently, while Sirius only snorted in anger.

"It fits. No wonder the Noseless Wonder gave one of those things to my family for safekeeping, what with Bellatrix and Regulus being in his inner circle and my darling mother almost worshiping _him _like a god!"

Albus looked at him with surprise. Horcruxes have been mentioned quite a few times that night, but neither he nor Harry actually explained what they are. "You know what a horcrux is, Sirius?"

The man shook his head weakly, disgust clear on his face. "Only the basics of it. Last Christmas, Harry asked me if he can borrow some books from the Black family library. I wanted to go through them first, check if they don't have any curses on them, and some decrepit, French tome was stashed on one of the shelves. It mentioned horcruxes." Sirius rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I was actually going to talk to you about it once I had a better grasp on them, Headmaster. I had an inkling that our darling Lord might have dabbled in some recreational Soul Magic."

Albus nodded, clearly concerned. "Did you tell anyone else about this?"

"Remus. He travels more than any of us, well, probably besides you. I told him to keep an eye out for any books mentioning the term. He knows how to be discrete, Albus. Don't worry."

Dumbledore only sighed and leaned back on his conjured, burgundy armchair.

"The more people know, the more likely it is for Voldemort to find out we know and move them."

"Sir, did you know? That he made these things?" asked Harry slowly. Albus looked at him intently, and the boy immediately lowered his gaze. He was still a fiasco when it came to Occlumency, and he was a firm believer in the old saying, _better safe than sorry. _

"I did since your second year, my boy."

"The diary." said Sirius.

"The diary" nodded Albus. "I never knew how many he made, however. In fact, Harry, I wanted to enlist your help in convincing one of Tom's teachers, Horace Slughorn to return to Hogwarts. Tom once asked his counsel on horcruxes, and I believe Horace knew exactly how many Tom planned to make."

Sirius, as bad as he felt, could not help but chuckle. "Sluggie?! Merlin, now I feel better about jinxing him to smell like catnip and Minnie to turn into a cat during the…"

"Sirius." Dumbledore said warningly, while shaking his head. Somehow, the stern teacher face he tried to pull was ruined by the edges of his mouth turning up into a smile. "But to continue, I think I can do that on my own, now that he will no longer feel like I try to trick him into an interrogation. And speaking of plans which will have to change, I wanted to take you to the Burrow after our meeting with Horace, Harry. Now, I think it's best for both you and Sirius if you remained here. Alternatively, you could move into the Potter Manor. It will need a thorough cleaning first, I assume. And I would like for you to let me strengthen the wards, and add a few of my own. I'd also appreciate it if you had an adult living with you."

Harry looked up at the Headmaster, a wave of conflicting emotions flooding him. _The Potter Manor? But what about the protections at the Dursleys?! _

"But sir, you said there are blood wards…"

"So I did, my boy. But your little excursion across the stars seems to have collapsed every bit of magic attached to you or your house."

"What? You mean…"

"I mean, there is no reason for you to return to your Muggle relatives. The main argument for your residence there, the special defences keyed into your maternal bloodline, are now gone. I presume magic like that does not resist the journey to a different world."

"Sir, you mentioned my letter…" Harry did not know whether to feel euphoric for finally being rid of his relatives or guilty because of causing such a mess in the first place. "You've been there tonight. I don't understand why, you were supposed to come a couple of days from now."

Albus sighed. "It was not only me, my boy. Alastor and Kingsley both came along. You actually gave us quite a busy night. We had to Obliviate half the street."

Sirius frowned and looked up at him. "Why, though?"

"Because we made a rather spectacular entrance." Dumbledore allowed himself a smile and his tone became quite light. "When I saw all the wards and charms on your house fall, Harry, I immediately called Alastor and Kingsley as back up. Fawkes took me there in his usual, fiery manner, while the other two surrounded the house after Apparating. We all cast quite a lot of protective charms the moment we popped up there, and I'm afraid I conjured a small army of beasts to aid us. I have to say, my boy, your uncle will probably avoid the lion den the next time he visits a zoo! Unfortunately, quite a few of the neighbours saw us, so we instantly shifted into damage control once we realized you weren't being mauled by Death Eaters."

"That kind of straightforwardness doesn't really sound like Mad-Eye." Commented Sirius.

"Ah, yes, but when it comes to battle, I always believed that offence is the best defence!" said Dumbledore genially.

"I'm sorry, sir. For everything…"

Albus looked at him and shook his head. "I do not approve of your decision, Harry. It was foolish, and it may end up costing you more than you are willing to pay. But in the end, we can only be as we are. You could have passed on this deal, but you would not have lived with yourself afterwards. Now, we must make sure the fallout is in our favor."

"Let's hope this O'Dimm character won't offer Riddle the same offer." Sirius said grimly.

"I doubt it" Harry shook his head, frowning. "He doesn't sound like he likes him that much. Though, I'd say it's more like he feels a disdain mixed with pity than actual hatred."

Albus had a brief expression of sadness on his face when hearing that. He would not have admitted it, but his feelings for Tom were of a similar manner. He often remembered various moments which now, in hindsight, he thought to be milestones in Tom's descent into Voldemort, and wondered how acting even slightly different could have pushed Tom onto a different trajectory. He knew the boy was never going to be some paragon of virtue. But Albus always blamed himself for not making sure he would at least be a respectable citizen. It seemed that the more he aged, the more regrets he seemed to accumulate. And looking at his dead hand, the less time he had to make amends.

"Albus" Sirius saw him looking at his injured limb. "What happened?"

He sighed. "One of Tom's horcruxes had more fight in it than I believed."

Black nodded and looked graver than Harry ever saw him. "I'm sorry. How much do you have left?"

_What does he mean how much he has left?! _

"A year. Give or take a few months, depending on how much magic I perform. I dare say, the taking part would be more accurate."

"I'm sorry, Albus."

_So am I, _thought Albus, while remaining silent.

"Wait a minute! What are you talking about? Sirius, what do you mean how much time the Headmaster has left?"

The two wizards looked at one another, then Dumbledore spoke in a very professional tone, as if he was once again in class, teaching first years how to turn a matchstick into a needle.

"The Withering Curse, Harry, is essentially a much slower version of the Killing Curse. Once hit with it, its effects appear around the area and expand. I think, that if I was to stop doing a great many deal of healing charms and drinking the potions Severus makes, it would quickly expand into my torso, giving me complete organ shutdown. As it stands, it will probably take away my lungs first. It can only be lifted by the caster, unfortunately."

Upon hearing that, Harry shot up and looked at him incredulously. The panic was clear in his voice, when he spoke.

"But… why don't we just cut off your hand?!"

Albus chuckled and shook his head. "It's the blood that is cursed, my boy. Not the tissue. If we cut the hand, the curse will manifest itself in a random part of my body, and it is quite likely that it will be a part that will kill me immediately. It is better to leave it like this."

Not willing to give up, Harry kept pushing.

"Then, why don't we cut off your hand when the curse is near to your lungs?! There will be a chance it will appear in a non-vital part, and buy you some more time!"

Albus smiled and looked with genuine love at him, once more shaking his head. "No, Harry. I will not mutilate myself only to buy a few more months of life. I do not fear death, my boy. Neither should you. I would advise you to show more caution in making deals which will potentially result in your death, but after my recent debacle with the horcrux, I do not think I am in a position to judge."

"Speaking off" Sirius cut the two off, while Harry still looked perplexed at the old man, his mind racing while trying to figure out ways to save him. "Which one was it?"

"The Gaunt Ring. Harry, if you will want it, I ask you to give me what time I have left to study the stone engraved in it. I believe it is older still than the actual ring, and it may serve you well if it is what I think it is."

The teenager only nodded numbly and sit back down, while Black looked at them confused.

"Why would Harry want the blasted thing?"

Albus looked at his student, expecting him to answer that question, but when he saw how distracted he was by the news of the Headmaster's imminent death, he answered in his stead. "The Potters and the Gaunts were once so interwoven with one another that some historians and family grimoires refer to them as a single family that coincidentally uses two names. Almost everyone associates the Gaunts with Slytherin, but what is not so well known anymore is that they were equally proud of their link with the Peverells. One they shared with the Potters, and brought the two together in the first place."

Sirius shrugged. "I don't see how being related with those inbred weirdos would be something Harry wants to associate himself with. But I suppose I don't have much right to judge, me being a Black and all. Albus, does that mean Harry can claim lordship of three more families when he becomes an adult?"

This time it was Harry that shook his head and answered. "No. Both Slytherins and the Peverells died off before the Wizengamot was a thing. Before Gringotts had a presence in Britain too, so no vaults with hidden riches either. I could claim lordship of House Gaunt, I suppose. Theoretically, it's held by some guy, Morfin, who is locked up in Azkaban."

"Morfin died a few months ago, I'm afraid." Albus interjected sadly. "After I realized Sirius was innocent, I pushed and pushed with the Ministry to clear Morfin as well. As unpleasant as he was, he was innocent of his crimes. He was taken to Azkaban after Voldemort framed him for the murder of Riddle Senior." Dumbledore sighed and looked at his left forearm, where he kept the Elder Wand. "Yet another failure on my part, I fear."

"You did your best, sir. So now, I suppose the strongest claim is with Voldemort. Assuming I live to see the end of the war…"

"Which you will" interjected Sirius strongly, to which Harry smiled.

"Well, I could easily claim the lordship then, but honestly, their most infamous kinsman left quite a sour taste in my mouth. I'll probably just leave it be, and if some future Potter wants to use it, he or she can be my guest."

Albus nodded, and looked at Sirius. "Now, as to the horcrux here in Grimmauld. How do you suggest we go about finding it?"

"Each of us takes a floor and goes through it?" suggested Harry, hoping to be helpful, but Black shook his head.

"No, I have a faster option. Kreacher!"

With a loud pop and a sneer, the old and unfriendly elf appeared in the room, but did not bow. "Filthy mongrel of former master that is too stupid too die properly returns to soil the ancestral house of the Blacks even more."

Sirius's eyes narrowed and Harry knew he instantly became annoyed at the sight of the house-elf. "What in Merlin's name you mean, _former _master?!"

"Kreacher now serves the degenerated great-spawn of most wonderful mistress Dorea. Oh, how the family must be turning in their graves, a filthy half-blood, heir of House Black."

"Sirius? What does he mean?"

His godfather looked at him sheepishly and shrugged. "I _may_ have left a will at Gringotts naming you my heir and adoptive son. It seemed that crossing the Veil severed my link with the house-elf. But why didn't it do the same to you?"

The teenager did not truly know what to say, so he stood up and hugged his godfather, who hugged him back.

"I love you, Sirius."

Black's hold merely tightened and kissed him. "I love you too, kid."

"Perhaps, it is because Harry went willingly" supplied Albus. "Also, I think, if the Veil of Death was originally a portal, it may have been damaged. If it was commonly used, it couldn't have severed the magics of those that crossed it, it would have been too inconvenient. It could have also been a fluke that Harry didn't appear dead, as far as legalities are concerned."

"Harry, order Kreacher to bring the locket. The sooner we finish this, the better."

"What does the unnatural stain on the Black name want with master Regulus's locket?" asked the elf warily.

Sirius sneered when he heard his brother's name. "So, it was Reggie who was given the damned thing? I figured it would be Bella, but my dear brother was quite the obsessed fanboy too."

"Degenerate, undead half-breed will not talk ill of the Blacks in their house!" the house-elf screamed.

"It's _my _house, you poorly enchanted maggot!"

Kreacher let out an animalic snarl and immediately conjured some spheres of electric, blue light in his palms, while Sirius tensed and got close to lunging at him. Fortunately, Harry intervened right before things escalated further.

"Kreacher, you will not attack Sirius! And stop insulting us! That is an order! And Sirius, Bellatrix was given a horcrux too, it's at Gringotts. Kreacher, listen! We want the locket so that we could destroy it! Bring it here, please."

The house-elf looked at him, his eyes growing wide. He seemed to be shaking. "You will destroy master's locket? Kreacher tried. Kreacher tried everything! Kreacher even punished himself by no longer cleaning the ancestral house of the Blacks because of his failure."

All three wizards looked at one another confused, and after a moment, Albus broke the silence.

"You mean Regulus actually wanted to _destroy _the horcrux?"

The house-elf's ears lowered and he looked up at Harry. "Kreacher will not be answering the dried-up mummy that befriends Mudbloods and blood-traitors, young master."

"Kreacher, I ordered you to stop insulting us!"

"Kreacher did not insult master's guests" he said seeming honestly confused. He then pointed at Dumbledore's hand. "Kreacher only said what he saw, and the mummies' friends are not in the room, master."

Sirius shook his head. "Damned thing could even give O'Dimm a run for his money with how he twists orders."

"Sirius, stop insulting him! Kreacher, stop insulting anyone, period! Tell us, why did Regulus wanted to destroy Voldemort's horcrux?"

The house-elf closed his eyes and began speaking in a shaky voice. "Master Regulus turned on the Dark Lord not long after he joined. He said the Dark Lord is not even pureblood. That he enjoys tormenting purebloods even more than the filth…. than the half and muggleborns. He said he will lead the Black family to ruin. That the Blacks will be bound to him like slaves. So, when the Dark Lord wanted an elf, Master Regulus sent Kreacher. To spy. To watch. To listen. The Dark Lord took Kreacher to a cave. And we crossed a water."

"Tom went there in his youth. It was my suspicion he hid a horcrux there." Albus mentioned, while the elf looked as if he was close to breaking into tears.

"He made Kreacher drink an awful potion, that showed awful things. Kreacher did, and when the Dark Lord was pleased, he placed a locket in a vase in the middle of an island, and covered it in the potion. He left Kreacher to die there. But Kreacher returned. Kreacher had orders from Master Regulus. He nursed Kreacher back to health, and listened. We went there some time later. No matter how hard Kreacher pleaded, master drank the potion himself. It hurt him badly. We've then been attacked. Kreacher wanted to fight. Started to fight. But master Regulus replaced the locket with a replica, refilled the vase, and ordered Kreacher to leave and destroy it."

At this point, the house-elf was crying and sitting on the floor. "No matter what and how much he tried, Kreacher was never able to destroy it. To accomplish Master Regulus's last order."

Harry looked at Sirius, who stood still, with teary eyes, looking at nothing in particular. "So… little Reggie was my brother after all. I wish I could tell him that. I… I'm afraid I failed him."

"Are you alright, Sirius?"

He shook his head. "Not at the moment, really." He placed one arm over his godfather's shoulders and turned towards the elf.

"Can you bring it, Kreacher? The locket?"

"Yes, master" he said, bowing and snapping his fingers. When he did so, a small, seemingly benign locket appeared on the floor. It was circular, made of gold, and on one side had an emerald serpent in the shape of the letter _S_, and on the other a beautiful, emerald tree. On the edges, Harry instantly recognized the Parselscript, the written variant of the Noble Tongue, invented in India and greatly resembling the Sanskrit alphabet. It was some invocation of a Celtic god named Belenus, which Slytherin seemed to associate with healing.

"How exactly will we destroy it, sir?"

"I suggest you command it to open using Parseltongue, Harry. Then, we have a few options. The Killing Curse and Fyiendifire can both destroy a horcrux. So does Basilisk venom, which, I think is our safest option right now. Tixie!"

A young, female house-elf appeared in the middle of the room, looking at the Headmaster with her giant, blue eyes.

"You'se be calling Tixie, famous master Dumbledore, sir?"

"Yes, Tixie. Could you please bring me Gryffindor's Sword?"

The young house-elf nodded vigorously, while Kreacher looked appalled at the insult of having a foreign elf in his beloved house. She snapped her fingers and left, in the same time summoning the sword in the middle of the room. Albus grabbed it before it could fall, and handed it to Harry, who looked at him surprised.

"You want me to do it, sir?"

Dumbledore nodded and smiled. "This is, as they say, your party, my boy. Seems only fair to let you do the honours."

Potter nodded and took the sword, while standing up over the locket. Sirius curled up in the bed, while Albus set up some shields around the two of them. Kreacher however, remained close to Harry, eyeing the locket with pure hatred.

"I'm ready!" the boy said. He turned towards the horcrux, speaking to it in Parseltongue. _**Open! **_

In that moment, the locket opened, and a wave of coldness swept through the room. Instantly, Harry started hearing voices, whispering around him, and shadows seemed to dance through the room, as if jumping at the teenager.

"_**Harry… Potter… I see your heart! I see your desires! I can make them happen! I can give you the world. Join me!" **_

Harry noticed some of the shadows started taking a familiar shape, his heart sinking when he realized the horcrux was trying to conjure up the image of his parents. Mustering up all the courage he had, Potter swung the sword, striking the locket with all his might. The moment the blade touched the golden piece of jewellery, the soul-shard let out a horrifying scream, shaking the whole room, even causing ripples of golden light on the shield Albus placed around him and Sirius.

And just as quickly as it started, the screech went silenced. Forever, Harry noted proudly. He looked up at everyone else, making sure they are alright, and then went down to pick up the object.

"That was… unpleasant" said Sirius.

"Quite." Albus agreed darkly. _Oh, Tom, how foolish you have been! _"I assume you wish to keep the locket, Harry?"

"If that's okay with you" he said nodding. Dumbledore did not have any objections, and lowered the shields, turning towards Black.

"I have many things to take care of. And I need some rest too, as critical as time is. I shall take my leave from you two for now. Harry, the sword, if you will."

The boy handed the poisoned blade to the Headmaster, who took it carefully and looked at them. "Oh, sir, I almost forgot! Hela wanted me to say this to the first wizard I saw!"

"Besides me, she said you needed that specified" Sirius chuckled, amused. Harry glared at him, and shook his head theatrically.

"Sir, she said: _cheat death once._"

Both godfather and his nephew noticed how Albus tensed up at the words, and for a brief moment, his eyes were full of surprise.

"You know what she means" remarked Black.

"I do. But I fear that is a story for another time. I truly must depart now. Stay safe, you two. And I should mention, Sirius, that your name has been cleared after the battle at the Ministry. However, unless you wish to become a prisoner once more, this time in the Department of Mysteries, you find another story to tell the public than being stuck on a faraway planet ruled by an Aesir."

Black nodded, and with a final bow of the head, Dumbledore Apparated away, leaving them alone. It was Kreacher that broke the silence, saying happily: "Kreacher be going to clean the house!"

Harry took a seat next to Sirius, prodding the man to lay down in bed and rest. And in that moment, seeing how his godfather looked at him, hearing him say that he is proud of him, made Harry certain that no matter what comes next, he made the right call. O'Dimm may have been dangerous, but he had a family now, and he would not have traded it for anything in the world.

It was three days after Harry's adventures that Albus Dumbledore would find himself on Diagon Alley, amiably exchanging greetings with all the passers by that would smile to him and salute him. His elegant, silver robes sat elegantly on him, and he took in the many shops, restaurants, and offices filling the Alley. Diagon Alley, although the most famous attraction in the Magical quarter of London, most likely due to the many shops and the Gringotts presence, was only one small part of a much larger area. Diagon neighbourhood boasted with the most famous alley of the same name, the equally infamous Knockturn Alley, known, depending on who you asked, either as a hub of dark and dangerous magic, or a valiant rebel stronghold, fighting back the ever-increasing government interference in the day to day life of Wizards and their Magic. In addition, there was Pendragon Square, on the other side of Gringotts's building, the high-end and posh Aureus Avenue, filled with expensive restaurants and homes frequented only by Purebloods, or others that managed to attain a rather impressible wealth. There were also the twin streets, Ambrosius and Avalon, and right at the edge of the Diagon Neighbourhood, the Jade Historical District. A famous little addition to Diagon set up centuries ago by Chinese witches and wizards exiled from either the Ming or Qing Empires because they allied themselves with the ICW and campaigned for China to conform to the Statute of Secrecy. The Emperors, along with their Wizard advisors became infuriated by the aligning of some of their brethren to the foreign political body. Even more so, since Chinese Wizards and Muggles have never been in conflict with one another, the two societies being the most open and cooperative muggle and wizarding societies in the entire world. Neither the wizards nor the muggles saw the need for a split, and the Chinese adamantly refused to stop mingling with one another in the open.

Things escalated with the infamous Opium Wars and the Century of Humiliation, when European powers pounced on the Great Qing Empire and forced it into submission. The ICW immediately seized the opportunity and fan the flames of war, discreetly aiding the European muggles and launching incursions of their own, trying to both make sure the war won't reveal the existence of magic, and at the same time, force China into accepting the Statute. The conflict was one of unprecedented brutality, and if Grindelwald would not have launched his war roughly a century later, the Great Eastern War, as the Wizards came to call it, would have remained the most violent confrontation in the history of magic. Ultimately, the ICW failed to fully enforce the Statute, the law only being imposed in China as a result of World War Two, when the ICW sided with the Japanese muggles only to bring the Chinese into submission. It was something which always baffled Albus, how the frontline in Asia was completely reversed than the one in Europe. While Grindelwald aided the Nazis, essentially using them to thin the numbers of the Muggles before he would reveal Magic to the world, sweep in and conquer them all, in Asia, his support was behind the Chinese wizards, with whom he signed an alliance, promising them a return of the Qing monarchy. As for the ICW, while they supported the Allies in Europe, they had been forced to support the Axis in Asia. It was only at the end of that conflict that the ancient mages of China finally broke and had to accept the Statute, despite Japan's loss. Although, some groups still occasionally popped up in China, raising the old yellow banner of the Emperor.

But the Jade District was older, one of the consequences of the Great Eastern War. The Emperor of that time exiled every Chinese witch or wizard which supported the ICW, many of them finding a home across Europe. The Jade District was one such place, and the Chinese families lived there had been in Britain for over a century now.

Eventually, Albus reached his destination. He looked up and smiled, reading the dusty old sign: _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. _The Most Ancient and Noble House of Ollivander, was, without a doubt, the oldest magical family in the whole of Europe, and one of the oldest in the world. Originally known as _Eliandros, _the family rose to fame for being the most skilled wand-makers in the ancient Greek city of Argos, eventually coming to spread their presence in other cities as well, such as Athens, Sparta and Elis. When the Romans spread their might across the Mediterranean world, the Eliandros family seized the opportunity, striking deals with the magical elite of Rome, and thus spreading their influence across the whole Empire. That was how they arrived in Britannia, coming here with the Roman legions in 43 AD. Eventually, they became known as Ollivander, though branches of the family still in Greece or Italy retained the original name. Now, they were also a brand known across the whole continent, having an absolute monopoly in Magical Britain, Greece, Italy, and the Free State of Alexandria, while maintaining an important presence in other places of Europe, the Mediterranean world and North America.

"Are you going to stay there in the middle of the street like some kind of scarecrow, or are you coming in?"

Albus quickly looked down from the sign and smirked, looking at Garrick Ollivander. The man stood with the door of his shop half opened, and looked at him with his gray eyes. He seemed to half a cup of tea in his other hand, while keeping a tight grip on the handle of the door with the other one. Dumbledore nodded and went towards the door, the man in a deep, purple robe leaving it open for him.

"Courteous as ever, Garrick" he said while closing the door behind him. The old wand shop was still as suffocating as ever. Albus more than once considered if there wasn't some kind of war preventing the proper air flow. "Not going to recite my wand specifications?"

Ollivander's gray eyes narrowed and shook his head. "You prick, you know your Occlumency is too good for that little Legilimency ward I have on the door. And plus, your wand was actually from before my time. Both of them. Merlin be damned, Albus, don't tell me you somehow snapped the _Elder Wand!" _

The old man was leaning on the counter and his face contorted in fear at the mere thought of such a precious artefact being destroyed. Albus chuckled and shook his head, pulling out the beautiful wand from his robe.

"She's fine, old friend. So is my original one."

"You still use it?" Garrick asked while taking a sip of the jasmine scented tea.

"Every once in a while, yes. An old man likes reminiscing, as I am sure you know."

Ollivander's eyes narrowed, but let the comment slide. "Ebony wood, right? What was the core?"

"Fairy wing."

"Ah, yes. One of my father's creations. So, Albus. What brings you to my humble abode? And can I get you anything?"

Albus shook his head and conjured an armchair, while Garrick rolled his eyes at the display. "No, I'm fine. In fact, if you will agree, I will only be here briefly."

The old wandmaker sighed and rubbed his temples, throwing a quick look outside. "And what exactly do you hope I agree with?"

Dumbledore couldn't help but chuckle. "I am going on a little trip, and would have liked to have your back up. Both your wand and your sharp mind."

_Like clockwork, _Dumbledore thought as he saw his old friend's whole demeanour change. He tensed up, and a strange glint appeared in his eyes. He looked like a starving lion that finally found prey but was refraining from pouncing on it instantly, afraid of scaring it away. "What kind of _little trip, _Albus?" he asked slowly.

"Frankfurt."

When he heard that, Ollivander stopped, his teacup midway to his mouth, and looked at Albus, the hunger in his eyes increasing. He immediately placed the cup on the counter and went to the door, switching the sign on it so that it showed _closed. _He pulled out his wand and pointed it towards the door, activating every privacy ward he had placed on his shop. When he was done, he turned towards Dumbledore and asked carefully.

"And what would we be doing in _Frankfurt?" _

"We will infiltrate the old Magisterium building, and make our way to Archmage Aldin's tomb. There, we will see if he buried himself with any notes, or books, or perhaps grimoires."

For a second, Garrick stood there silently, but Albus saw his breathing increase in pace.

"Merlin damn you, Albus! When are we leaving?!"

Dumbledore chuckled. "So eager, old friend?"

"Oh, shut up!" Garrick snapped. "You have no idea how boring my life is nowadays!"

He sped passed him, motioning the Headmaster to follow him. The two made their way into the back of the store, where Ollivander took his wand out once more and pointed it towards a wall filled all the way up to the ceiling with shelves with wand boxes. With a feint, white light, Albus saw the stack of shelves dissipate into the air. He looked at his friend and raised an eyebrow. Garrick shrugged when he saw him.

"You can never be too safe."

In stead of the wands was now a small, wooden door. Ollivander pointed a finger towards the handle, and kept his wand in the other hand. He made a small cut appear on the tip of his finger, levitating a drop of blood from it, then healing it immediately. A beautiful, vivid, blue light engulfed the handle, a metallic noise being heard inside it.

"Blood-payment enchantment? How crude of you, Garrick. I did not expect it."

Ollivander snorted and turned back before opening the door. "A pointless comment? How typical of you, Albus. I _did_ expect it."

Dumbledore smiled and shook his head at his friend's antics. The two entered in a small room, lit up by floating spheres of white light. Albus had to pause for a moment when he saw what was inside, feeling himself swept by a powerful wave of memories and nostalgia. He could not help but smile as he looked around. The walls were filled with pictures, of him in his youth. Him, Garrick, Charlus Potter, Arcturus Black, and Nicholas - with Fawkes on his shoulder - and Perenelle Flamel.

_How young we were! So young, and hopeful. _

"The old crew." Garrick said wistfully.

Albus nodded. "The original _Order of the Phoenix._" He stopped near one of the pictures, and placed a few fingers on it, almost wishing it would be a portkey back in time. They were at Griffin's Nest, an old Potter property, overseeing Big Ben from the living room's window. It was back in 1942, and Charlus just charmed Arcturus's hair into a bright red colour, while his eyebrows were golden. Arcturus seemed to point his wand towards him, while everyone else was in the background laughing.

"Sometimes, when I close the shop, I come back here. Grab a bottle of Firewhisky and just… remember, I suppose."

"I know how that feels, old friend. Sometimes I get lost in thought too. Quite often, recently." He made a quick gesture with his cursed hand, and Garrick sighed, his eyes filled with pity. Albus saw it and instantly cut him off.

"Don't be sad, my dear Garrick. I prefer to focus on life, for as long as I still have it. I suppose, I always knew one day, I'll go. One way or another."

"And now you are, and you wish for a few moments more."

Dumbledore did not move, but he felt tears forming in his eyes. _A few moments more. _But if he got them, would he be ready for death, afterwards? Or will there always be just a few moments more he wanted. He needed. _The next great adventure… _He felt a pang of fear in his heart, as he thought about it. Albus sighed, pushing his Occlumency shields to the maximum, trying to regain his composure.

"I keep here everything I have back from the war. Look!"

He pulled a drawer and took out a silver medallion in the shape of a hammer, decorated with sapphire runes on it's handle.

"I got this from that Flag-Bearer in Aachen!"

Albus smiled. "The one that enchanted the German machine guns to replenish their ammo?"

"And stop overheating." Garrick confirmed. "Me and Perenelle cornered the prick when he was making a run for the theater, to regroup with his friends."

"Those portable warding arrays Nick made were quite useful."

"Unless we wanted to Apparate ourselves, in which case we pretty much screwed ourselves over."

Dumbledore puffed in frustration, suddenly remembering something.

"Remember when I almost died in that SS ambush because you accidentally put your array in my bag?"

"Not my fault they were identical." Ollivander muttered.

The two remained in a comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"Are we rounding up what's left of the old crew, Albus? I'm sure Nick and Perenelle would Floo over if we called them."

"No need. Between the two of us, we can handle anything the tomb throws at us."

"Why are we going there anyway?"

"Aldin was the longest owner of an artefact that suddenly became quite important to me. There are a great deal of popular stories about him and _it." _

"And what would _it _be, Albus?"

Dumbledore leaned on the wall and wiggled the Wand between his fingers. "The artefact itself is the Mirror of Erised. But I was referring to something more specific. A being known as…"

"_Master Mirror." _

Albus immediately looked up at his friend. He had the distinct impression that the temperature in the room dropped by quite a few degrees, and the light charms were failing. Apparently, Garrick thought the same thing, as he looked up at them and frowned.

"What do you know of him?"

Ollivander shook his head and shrugged. "What everyone that read about that blasted Mirror does, I suppose. He is an entity presumed to dwell inside the Mirror. He sometimes interacts with those that look into the mirror for too long. The persons become obsessed with the things they see, and develops an avid interest in Runes, warding and enchantments of every kind. No one ever had any proof that the being actually exists, however. And no scanning of the Mirror suggests that he does either." Garrick sighed and looked at Albus worriedly. "If you asked about him, am I correct in presuming that Master Mirror is real and you somehow encountered him?"

Albus nodded. "He does, but it is not me that met him. Harry did."

"Why am I not surprised. Life really has it in for that kid. What happened?"

"They made a sort of pact at a crossroads on midnight. The being claims its name is Gaunter O'Dimm. He agreed to fulfill three of Harry's wishes, and in exchange, he will take the boy's soul if a condition is met."

"I read things like that in Muggle literature. Pan Twardowski and Faust are the most famous. Never imagined there is a real equivalent in the Magical world."

"I'm not sure O'Dimm is from the Magical world. Garrick, Sirius Black is alive. The being arranged his return."

Ollivander's eyes widened. "Merlin's beard!"

"Indeed. I need to find out how to keep Harry from its clutches. Apparently, Harry's ancestors managed to bind him once. I hope we can replicate the achievement."

"The Potters?"

"I'm pretty sure it was the Peverells, actually. Are you leaving the store unattended?"

Ollivander shook his hand and waved a hand. "No, I'll Floo-call one of my nephews, Alexis. He'll take care of things. Just a minute."

Garrick removed his purple trench coat and opened a drawer from where he pulled a dark, gray leather coat, with purple inflexions and purple buttons. Albus instantly recognized it as one of his friend's favourite dragon-hide robes, wearing it often during the war. The now old man put it over his white shirt, and motioned Albus to follow him. He then waved his wand, and the door disappeared behind the illusioned wand box shelves. They then made their way to a fireplace, Ollivander throwing some Floo powder in the fire.

"_Athens Academy of Magic" _he said in Greek.

"_Garrick Eliandros! What a pleasant surprise! Do you wish to visit?" _Headmaster Archelaos, a Charms Master whom Albus knew quite well, had a pleasant face, and had been with the Academy for around the same time Albus had been with Hogwarts.

"_No, my friend. I was actually hoping you would allow me to loan Alexis for the rest of the day, if that is okay with you?" _

"_Of course, a day off won't kill him. I'll have him over to your place in a few minutes!" _

The green fire extinguished itself, and Dumbledore turned towards his friend, with mocked outrage. "I still don't understand why _you _didn't send your children and grandchildren to Hogwarts!"

"Bah! The Athens Academy was a world-renowned institution of magic back when England was still Celtic! Your castle is good Albus, but it needs a few more millennia of heritage before it can compete with the big boys."

In a couple of minutes, the green flames erupted once again and from them came a young man, no older than seventeen, dressed in a light blue tunic with a white belt, with two navy blue stripes on it.

"Grandfather! What happened?"

The young man's voice was melodious and he hugged Garrick tightly, before letting go and inspecting him, fearing his grandfather was ill.

"Nothing, Alexis. Me and Albus have to go on an errand, and I was hoping you could watch over the store for me."

"Right, and do you usually wear your old war coat during your _errands, _grandfather?"

Albus chuckled and Ollivander merely muttered something incorrigible, but Alexis cut him off.

"Just be careful, alright? You're not a young man anymore."

Garrick gasped and shook his head. "I'll have you know that I am still in my prime by Wizarding standards!"

"Grandfather, your alchemist friend isn't what passes as usual Wizarding standards. Just promise me you'll watch yourself, alright?"

"Fine, fine. And you promise me to dress up like me and use the Legilimency ward on the entrance. It will be a blast seeing people working themselves up over how I managed to de-age myself."

"Oh, I'm sure Tom especially will appreciate your forays into tampering with your life expectancy, _old _friend!"

Garrick turned towards Albus and glared at him. "As if that upstart conjurer is any match for me or you, Albus!"

In the meantime, Alexis looked at him bemused and shook his head. "You really are something else, grandfather. But fine, you promise to take care of yourself and I promise to aid you in your little scheme."

"Perfect! Albus, are we getting out of here?"

"On it!" Dumbledore nodded and removed one of his gold rings, pointing the Elder Wand at it. He cast a silent _Portus _at it, engulfing it in blue light for a few moments. When he was done, he extended it towards Garrick, who grabbed it with two fingers.

"Have fun, you two!"

"Phoenix!" said Dumbledore.

In that moment, the two wizards felt a sharp pull from their navel, as if getting hooked into a small tunnel, and saw the world change around them, a loud noise ringing in their ears. This chaos engulfed them for a few moments, then everything came to a halt and they opened their eyes. Instead of the small wand shop on a cosy wizarding alley, they were now in a dark, filthy back alley, riddled with trash bins and half torn posters. Sitting next to one was a beggar, that looked at the odd pair with pure shock, and tried to say something, but no word came out. Before he had time to do anything however, Albus pointed his wand at him and cast a silent _Obliviate. _He then placed his ring back on, and motioned for Garrick to follow him.

"It's just down the block, let's go."

"Gods, how I missed this, Albus!"

The two went out on the main street, garnering quite a few looks with their odd attires. Some Muggles even made a conscious effort to pull away from them as they passed. Garrick, on the other hand, looked around with distaste, occasionally muttering something inflammatory in Greek.

"Why is it that every time I go into the Muggle world, the Muggles manage to become even louder? Gods, I can barely hear myself think!"

Albus rolled his eyes and smiled at his friend. "Do you remember when Arcturus got into that big fight with a Muggle after insisting they must have somehow turned horses invisible, because there is no other way a Muggle could _enchant _a _carriage_ to walk on its own?"

Ollivander laughed and looked at him. "Merlin, I'm pretty awkward around them too, but even I'm not that hopeless! We had to pry them from one another and Obliviate the Muggle afterwards! So, how are going to do this? I thought the old Magisterium was closed off and kept under ICW guard at all times."

"Yes, visitors need to register a couple of months before the date they visit."

"I assume we didn't."

"I do enjoy surprises, as you know."

Garrick chuckled and became thoughtful. "So, how will we play it?"

"You forget, my old friend, that I was until recently, head of the ICW? There are some advantages to being me, you know."

"So, we just bullshit our way through and hope no one calls us out on it?"

"No need to be so crass, but yes, essentially."

Garrick laughed and looked at the funny Muggle cars, commenting more to himself than to anyone else. "Reminds me of that time we infiltrated House Siegmar's manor, in Bavaria."

The two men finally took a turn into another dark and filthy alley, and made their way all the way to its end, where an unassuming brick wall stood. Albus was ready to tap his wand on it and open the gate, but then he heard his friend mutter some insults and turned towards him. Ollivander was looking at the walls, or better said, at what was written in graffiti on them. They were filled with Grindelwald's mark, the mark of the Deathly Hallows, and various inscriptions in German and Old Norse were written beneath the symbols. _For the Greater Good! _was the most popular one, followed closely by _Free Grindelwald! _and _Wizards are not slaves! Down with the ICW! _

"Idiots… I bet you, the fools that wrote these haven't even been in a propel duel before, much less an actual fight. What do they know of the war!... Stupid children, and they leave it out in the open for Muggles to see, too!"

"They leave them specifically for Muggles to see" commented Albus. He pointed his wand towards the walls and did a small wave, immediately erasing every sign of magical presence from them. The two then turned towards the wall, and Albus tapped some bricks on it. Then, a circle of burgundy light appeared on the wall, and it simply transformed into a beautiful archway, the two walking through to a wide, cobblestone alley, flanked by Medieval looking homes build in a truly whimsical and logic defying way. At the end of the street was a large, beautiful square, with a burgundy dragon beautifully enchanted on the pavement, still moving his head and looking at anyone that walked over the square. At the other end of the square rose a large, imposing building made of white marble, with burgundy columns across the entire, solid arc shaped façade. Behind the columns, the entire façade was made of stained glass, depicting all the Most Ancient and Noble Houses of the old Empire lined up and saluting a glowing, burgundy Valknut, which symbolized the Archmage of the Magisterium, the unquestionable leader of the long-fallen giant of a nation. At each end of the arc shaped building were small domes, and a larger one was in the centre, all three made out of solid gold. At the imposing entrance, with doors adorned with Norse imagery combined with Imperial political propaganda, stood a small, metal plaque. The plaque read as followed:

_On 2__nd__ of April 1945, ICW forces liberated the Magisterium from the Dark Lord Grindelwald's forces. The building stood as capitol of the Empire from 912 AD to 1931 AD, when the Empire was officially abolished by Grindelwald's forces and replaced with the Tevinter Imperium. This building continued to be used as capitol until it's liberation by ICW. Now, it stands as a museum dedicated to Magical heritage in Germany and as a reminder of the horrors of The Great Wizarding War. _

"They gave us medals for this, remember?"

Albus nodded grimly. "I also remember how many we lost trying to take this place."

"Those idiot politicians only cared about scoring big wins to keep the public opinion behind the war. Bastards, the lot of them." Garrick spit at the feet of the plaque. "I'll never forget how that poor volunteer from Spain looked at me after the Inferius tore his stomach open. So _helpless._ He was just a kid, Albus, couldn't have been older than sixteen! And then that idiot Mugwump expected us to come over to New York to drink champagne and regale the rich snobs with tales of the war!"

"Charlus and Arcturus gave them quite a piece of their mind, I remember."

"And rightfully so" said Garrick slowly. "C'mon."

The two made their ways up the stars, eventually making their way through the eerily empty halls, and only when they neared the inner chambers that they were stopped by a guard which noticed the two were not with any of the tourist groups. The young guard wearing a dark blue outfit approached them, his wand at the ready.

"I'm sorry, but who exactly are you two?"

"That would be your boss, lad."

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, former Supreme Mugwump of the ICW and current Delegate of Magical Britain. My friend and I merely wanted to visit the place and reminisce of the old battles while keeping a lower profile. I'm sure that is not such a grave problem, is it not?"

The young man spluttered and began apologizing, but the two man merely waved him off and continued on their way without being interrupted anymore. The wizards started descending on the abrupt stairs, with each level they passed by, the air becoming thicker, colder, and more and more unwelcoming. The tombs of the Archmages still retained most of their secrets, as it was considered illegal during the times of the Empire to excavate or study them. When Grindelwald took over, he blasted a lot of them open and removed the treasures inside, using them to fund his war, and stashing the books in his personal collection. And now, since the site was a museum protected by the ICW, the decision had been made not to disturb the old curses and enchantments on the tombs, leaving a large area of the building's underground unexplored.

Eventually, they reached a dark corridor, filled with simple, wooden doors, each with a name written on them in golden Runes.

"Keep your wand ready, old friend. Who knows what kind of curses are still here."

The two advanced slowly, with each step feeling the temperature dropping and the flames on the torches twisting unnaturally, as if an evil took control of them and turned them around its fingers.

"We're here…"

Albus pointed the Elder Wand towards the door, a sphere of purple light appearing on its tips, and some tendrils of the same color enveloping the door.

"Look's like we're not the first ones here."

"Merlin damned Grindelwald… You think the trail's gone cold?"

"Only one way to find out!'

Dumbledore pointed his wand at the door. Initially, there were only sparks of blue light on its tip, but eventually the sparks grew into a small sphere, and then the sphere turned into a large ball which hummed dangerously. The light then darted off the wand and smashed into the wooden door, tearing it apart with ease, and shaking the entire corridor.

"Subtle" said Garrick dryly.

The two then entered the obviously magically expanded room, being awed by the intricate reliefs on the walls, and the serpent like columns which supported the ceiling. Ceiling which was enchanted to look like the night sky. What was more problematic however, was that the hall was completely _empty. _The two cast various detection charms, explored the room by hand, and even tried muttering some famous Imperial sayings, hoping at least _something _will trigger a reaction in the room. Unfortunately for them, nothing seemed to work.

"Whoever plundered this place was thorough, Albus. I don't think the sleeping beauty here" he pointed towards the large, stone sarcophagus in the middle of the room "will be of much help."

"I fear I must agree. We should return to Diagon, see what other leads we can follow."

"_Depulso." _

The two wizards raised their wands and instantly turned towards the door, only to see a smiling man leaning on the threshold. He looked at them clearly amused, but did not move. He merely stood there; face half lit by the disturbing fires on the hallway.

"Depulso. Such a simple spell. A spell one uses almost daily, isn't it? And yet, such an easy spell to misuse too."

"Who are you supposed to be?!" Garrick asked irritably.

"Ah, I will get there. But first, let me tell you two a story. A story about three young wizards and a witch. You see, long ago, two great friends, perhaps more lovers than friends, thought they had their whole lives planned and ready for the taking. Until, the brother of one of them, forever a skeptic, decided he could take no more of their self-importance and grandeur, and gave them a rather harsh reality check. All of them being young, tempers flared, insults were thrown, and eventually, eventually wands were drawn."

Ollivander noticed Albus being unusually still and pale, but thought nothing of it and instead kept his eyes on the stranger.

"Eventually, neither one of the three wanting to back down, they ended up firing spells at one another. Hearing the commotion, the sister of the two brothers came down, and tried to break up the fight. And you know what happened next?"

At this point, the man had a ferocious grin on his face, and something in the light and his unsettling tone made Ollivander's blood freeze in his veins. He took one more look at Albus, who was absolutely livid. He was starting to figure out why, as this was a story his friend told him a long time ago.

"Shut up and tell us your name!"

The stranger ignored him and looked straight at Dumbledore.

"Such a shame, how you killed your sister with a simple Depulso charm. Don't you think? You aimed for the chair, trying to push it into your own brother, but the dust Gellert conjured earlier made you off balance. Five centimeters. Five centimeters to the right, and you hit poor, little Ariana right in the shoulder. She fell and hit the edge of the table. You broke her neck and killed her instantly. A clean kill, at least. I'm surprised how you manage to delude yourself so far into thinking anyone of you could have killed her. It was clearly your spell. I am glad I managed to clear up this misconception of yours."

The man's light and sadistic tone both annoyed and unnerved Ollivander, who looked at his friend again and this time saw tears flowing down his face.

"I wonder, did you ever tell your friends? That your fight against Grindelwald was more akin to self-imposed penitence? That deep down in your heart, you still believed in his cause? Dare I say, _still _do?"

"Enough! Who are you supposed to be!"

"Ah, of course! Gaunter O'Dimm, at your service…"

"Master Mirror?" Ollivander cut him off.

"In person!"

"_Ignis Sagitta!" _

The spell immediately formed at the tip of Ollivander's wand. A sphere of hot fire, which shot out towards O'Dimm and split into a multitude of smaller balls of fire, similar to the pellets of a shotgun. However, much to both him and Dumbledore's shock, the fire merely touched Master Mirror and faded away without doing any damage to him. He then laughed and looked back at Garrick with an absolutely feral look.

"_That _ wasn't very nice."

He raised his arm and with a small twist of his finger, he ripped away Ollivander's wand arm. The old man grabbed the bleeding forearm, kneeling down on the floor and screaming. Dumbledore immediately darted to his side, raising a powerful shield, but for the first time in many decades, Dumbledore felt unprepared. He never felt that way in a battle, not even when facing Tom. Yet this time, he had absolutely no clue what he got himself into.

O'Dimm then snapped his fingers and sparks of deep, purple light appeared between them. He merely grinned and turned to leave, the two wizards remaining alone, and Garrick being in agonizing pain, unable to stop the bleeding.

Just as Albus was about to start helping his friend to his feet, a violent punch was heard in the room. The two wizards stared at _it, _not daring to make a sound. They could both feel the cold sweat on their foreheads rolling down. And then, the sound appeared again. It came from _inside _the sarcophagus!

"We need to leave!"

"I agree!"

The two started moving just as a third punched threw open the lid of the sarcophagus and from it stood up a screeching, hideous Draugr. More skeleton than man, with long hair coming out straight from its skull, and orbs of purple light in the empty eye sockets. The monster which smelt like rotting flesh lunged towards Dumbledore, however the man pushed it backwards with a flick of his wand, immediately helping Garrick to his feet. While his back was turned, the undead tightly grabbed him by his hand and pushed him into the wall, Albus letting out a muffled scream. The Draugr was using its other hand to hit him repeatedly, his nose already bleeding, while Garrick was far too weak to be of any use. The Headmaster managed to regain his wits and channelled his magic into his healthy hand, punching the monster with the enhanced hand. Sparks of yellow light emerged where he made contact, and the monster flew into the wall, immediately turning its head towards the two and screaming.

In the few seconds of respite, the two were already out the door, Albus conjuring a brick wall where the wooden door used to be, however the Draugr was punching it violently, probably even throwing himself at it head first, bits and bits of it getting chipped away with each hit.

"Can't we Apparate?!"

"No, the ICW warded this entire building, and since I'm not Supreme Mugwump anymore, I can't bypass it!"

"May Hades take them, that thing will be on our tail soon enough!"

The two stopped, no matter how poorly of a decision that was in those moments, they could not refrain their shock at the multitude of screams they heard. And if that wasn't enough, that very instant, _every single _door on that corridor was swung open, the monstrous Draugr emerging from every single tomb in the building!

"Ignis Malus!"

Dumbledore did not even hesitate. He cast Fyiendifire immediately and encapsulated himself and Ollivander in an empty sphere of fire, sending jets of fire up and down the corridor every five seconds. For a few moments, he thought his plan was working. Until two of the monsters somehow jumped _inside _the fire sphere, almost making Albus loose his concentration enough to collapse the flames on himself and Garrick. The two screamed, and Ollivander pulled out a cursed dagger he carried at his belt, planting it deeply into one of the beasts, however doing absolutely nothing to him. Dumbledore wandlessly banished him, while the second one gripped Garrick's right leg tightly and appeared to try and rip it off. The wandmaker managed to conjure a panther that swooped in and pinned the Draugr down into the flame, eventually disabling it.

"How did they penetrate _Fyiendifire?!_"

"They are Draugr, not Inferius! More resilient!"

"Blasted Necromancers!"

"If I surrender you the spell, do you think you can control it?"

"What will you do?!"

"A ritual powered spell! An old trick I learned in my youth! Garrick, it's our only chance!"

"I… give it here!"

Garrick lifted his wand, a small sphere of blazing hot fire appearing on its tip the moment he took over the spell. He added his own twists on it, reinforcing the flames with more curses and charms, turning them from the blinding red colour to a pale, blue wave of flame. Outside, they could hear the roar of the undead, and every once in a while one would pop out through the flames and jump on them, the rotting flesh on them completely charred. Ollivander was now full of cuts, bruises and bite marks, having to protect both himself and Albus.

In the meantime, Dumbledore pulled up the sleeve on his healthy arm and performed a cut with his wand, levitating some blood out of it. He healed himself and extended his wand towards the blood, a dark, sickly purple light appearing at the tip of the wand. He began an eerie chant, one that Garrick managed to vaguely place as being in Ancient Egyptian, the same as the hieroglyphs which started to be moulded out of blood. They began shining in the same purple light, and expand, forming a circle. Next, Albus pointed his wand down and conjured a beautiful black dog, which he had sit in front of him, and surrounded him with the glyphs, as he placed them on the floor. Ollivander almost lost control over the spell when he heard the next words Albus said:

"_Avada Kedavra!" _

The green light instantly killed the poor dog, and then a low humming noise filled the corridor, the runes lighting up brighter than ever. Dumbledore pointed his wand at them and shouted _Give me allegiance!, _in what Garrick was pretty sure was Ancient Egyptian. In that instant, the glyphs shifted into a symbol similar to the Valknut, but not as straight and pointy, and Albus took it on the tip of the Elder Wand, pointing it in front of him. With a loud noise, the symbol darted through the hallway, extinguishing the flame and with it, every Draugr collapsed on the floor, unmoving. After a fraction of a second of silence, the ones behind them let out a horrible scream in unison, and ran head first towards the two wizards.

"Run!"

Dumbledore and Ollivander ran as fast as they could, jumping through the disabled undead, and firing curses over their shoulder.

"Ignis Sagitta!"

"Ignesco Caeli!"

"Bombarda Maxima!"

The spells flew into the undead, burning them, blasting them, conjuring chains that bound them in place, Dumbledore even blasted the ceiling, collapsing the entire corridor. Eventually, the two got to the stairs, turning back towards the Draugr and conjuring a brick wall that closed the exit from the tombs.

"It won't hold them forever!"

"Garrick, how's your hand?!"

"I managed to slow the bleeding, but it's not stopping."

Albus looked at him worriedly, then pulled out his ring and turned it into a Portkey. He extended it towards his friend, but he only looked back at him indignantly.

"Run across the wards and say _sanctuary. _It will take you to Hogwarts! And get everyone you see out of here!"

"You're mad, I won't leave you here!"

The Headmaster only smiled and shook his head. He was exhausted after that small ritual he performed, but he did his best to hide it. "I'll be fine! It takes more than some shoddy skeletons to get rid of me." He saw his friend was determined to stay, so he took his hand and put the ring in it, closing it around it. "Go! You'll bleed to death if you don't get to a medic soon!"

Ollivander knew that was true, as much as he hated to admit it. He also knew that Albus was more than able to take care of the undead, but leaving his old comrade behind still hurt him. Reluctantly, he nodded and ran up the stairs, Dumbledore looking after him. When he finally lost track of him, he turned towards the collapsing wall of bricks and played with the Elder Wand between his fingers. The Hallow was humming euphorically, feeling in his hand like an addict that was battling his addiction but suddenly got a rush of his drug. Wands, based on their cores and wood, had affinities to various branches of magic. They were able to perform any kind of spell, albeit sometimes reluctantly, however, there were things which they absolutely loved doing. They would unleash all their power, anxiously anticipating the next thing their owner would do. And the Elder Wand was, above all, a wand of _Necromancy. _It is why it loved so much being wielded by Gellert, which, in his studies, gained mastery over the deepest secrets of the ancient art. Albus looked at it, then cocked his head to a side, and smiled. In that instant, a flash of flames appeared above him, and his beautiful Phoenix swung his wings in the air, letting out a menacing thrill. The usually serene and soothing bird rested majestically on Dumbledore's right shoulder, gazing with menace towards the corridor where the undead struggled to come out from. Albus felt the excitement of his feathery companion in the same way he felt that of the wand. Everyone thought that Phoenixes were the epitome of virtue. Of goodness. They thought that having a Phoenix familiar was a mark of purity and innocence. Albus, on the other hand, knew better. Phoenixes were symbols of _power. _And power was something often beyond the traditional lines of good and evil.

"Ready, my friend? We can't allow them to reach the people above."

Fawkes thrilled dangerously, while Dumbledore pointed his wand towards the conjured wall, dispelling it with a silent movement. The chaos was instantaneous. The noise was deafening, and the Phoenix instantly darted into the air making a sharp roll and throwing off small balls of fire off its body in the process, taking out quite a few of the undead. In the meantime, Albus stood guard at the base of the stairs, conjuring lions, panthers and tigers out of thin air. The Draugr managed to fend them off, ripping them to shreds, but the short loss in momentum gave Albus the opportunity he needed.

He stepped right in the middle of the swarm, pointing the wand upwards and doing some elegant swishes in the air which seemed to energize the air, sparks of white light flying everywhere. The floors then seemed to instantly rise up, smashing violently into the roof and tearing a large part of the undead apart. Continuing the motion, Dumbledore lowered his wand and pointed it towards the end of the hallway, the now elevated floors turning into menacing spears and darting off into the darkness.

The entire building shook, the wizard and his Phoenix unleashing their most menacing moves, fire, light, and conjured animals tearing through the summoned army. After a few more minutes, Albus was breathing heavily, with Fawkes on his shoulder, and looked around at the sight. The Draugr had been destroyed, and the damage to the historical building was significant. The old wizard was filled with cuts, bruises and scorched marks on his silver robes.

When he heard noises from behind him he pointed the wand towards the stairs, while the Phoenix sang a menacing song. In a few moments, the entire place was swarmed by ICW guards and local Aurors, all pausing instantly when they saw the battlefield.

"What the hell happened here?" whispered one of them.

Albus lowered his wand and took a few more moments to catch his breath. _Here goes the last remains of pull I had with the Confederacy, _he thought dryly.

"Me and a friend have been attacked by some unknown Necromancer" he said in perfect German. "Which one of you is chief of security?"

"I'm… I mean, I am, sir" one shaking, blonde wizard said.

For some unknown reason, Albus's mind instantly drifted off to what the newspapers would say about him tomorrow. _Albus Dumbledore, Defeater of Tombs, _or _Albus Dumbledore tries Archeology and blows up German heritage site. _

_Rita will have a field day! _

"Right" he said with a twinkle in his eye and suppressing a smile. "Make sure the German Department of Mysteries seals this place until they figure out how and by whom this was done."

"Sir, I think you should remain here for questioning!"

Albus shook his head. "I will certainly make myself available for your inquiries, but right now, I have a friend that needs visiting. Fawkes?"

And with that, the impatient bird thrilled merrily and engulfed itself and Dumbledore in a flash of blinding fire, tearing through the wards with no difficulty, much to the dismay of everyone present. The travelling flame materialized itself in the Hogwarts infirmary, where the bird instantly flew out though one of the open windows.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake Albus, I almost hexed you!"

The impatient tone of Madame Pomfrey made him anxious, and he immediately apologized for startling her. The witch was looming over a petulant Ollivander, who was trying to get out of bed every time the Mediwitch looked away from him, but she would always seem to sense that and turn back, wand in hand. Albus smiled and approached the man, observing his injuries.

"I apologize for dragging you into this, Garrick."

"Ah, nonsense!" he said looking warily at the potions Madame Pomfrey was lining up next to his bed. "So, that was our guy, that Master Mirror fellow? Odd one."

Dumbledore nodded, and looked down at the Elder Wand. "We know what he is capable of now. He won't surprise us in the future. Although, I'm sorry our little outing brought no results. I was hoping we would find a clue with the Archmage."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake!" Ollivander spit out most of the blood-replenishing potion and muttered something in Greek which Albus thought was less than complimentary. "Well, we actually did."

Dumbledore frowned and looked at the man confused. "What do you mean?"

Ollivander grinned and tapped his temple. "You should pay more attention to details, old friend. The tomb itself, the sarcophagus. Did you see the etchings on it?"

"I thought they were just decorations."

Garrick smiled and shook his head. "No. Goblin. They were some kind of map, I'd wager. We will need a Goblin for this, though."

"How extraordinary…" Albus muttered. "How carefully did you look at those markings?"

"Good enough for your fancy Pensieve to tell us everything we need to know."

The two men smiled at one another, for a few moments forgetting they were old and grizzled, and still feeling like the energetic men of their youth, who would feel they just shifted the world from its axis with even the smallest victory. "I'm surprised though, an Archmage leaving Goblin markings on his tomb. I thought the Empire looked down on them."

"They did. It's why no one would had been able to decipher the real meaning of those symbols too, nobody cared about Goblins." Garrick looked grimly at the enchanted bandages on the lump that was now his hand. "I guess we have something in common, Albus."

Dumbledore and Poppy Pomfrey exchanged quick looks, the witch's wand lighting up like a Yule tree, casting all sorts of healing spells on the wound. "I will do my best, Albus, but.."

"Dark Magic always does things thoroughly. I understand if you won't be able to save it. Alexis will kill me though..." Dumbledore placed a hand on his shoulder. "Quite interesting that ritual powered spell of yours, Albus." Garrick said slowly.

"Another time, old friend. I'll go prepare the Pensieve. Poppy, I trust you will not mention Garrick's presence here to anyone else?"

The witch seemed to bite back a retort, but settled to a short nod, then left to her office. "Dangerous woman, that one" muttered Ollivander, who remained in bed. Albus barely managed to leave the infirmary when he already saw Hagrid on the end of the hallway, making his way to him. The Headmaster quickly advanced towards him, smiling.

"Headmaster sir, I heard you returned to the castle! Been meaning to tell you at once sir, Harry dropped by the castle earlier! Said he had some business to take care of, but he still hasn't left. Sir, he's here with…" The half-giant looked around to see if the hallway was empty, then leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, yet still incredibly loud. "He's here with Sirius."

Albus's eyebrows rose up upon hearing that, but he recovered quickly. "Thank you for telling me, Hagrid, I'll make sure to find them."

The man nodded vigorously and left, Dumbledore looking after him, yet his thoughts darting off in a thousand different directions. When he was finally alone, he walked towards a portrait and pointed his wand at it, a feint, blue light appearing on it's tip.

"Do you know where Harry Potter is?" The painting of a Medieval witch remained silent for a few minutes, during which it connected to the entire portrait network in the castle, and then spoke. "He and a black dog walked into the girl's bathroom on the second floor about an hour ago."

_The Chamber of Secrets. What are you up to, my boy?_ The Headmaster nodded at the portrait and lowered his wand, setting course for the abandoned bathroom.

**I hope I flushed out all the typos. Sorry if I missed anything. To quote a classic, 'sorry for my bed england'. The meaning of fairy wing as wand core comes from a fic I will link shortly. To quote, fairy wing wands bond with those that are light-hearted, free-spirited, caring, kind, and cheerful, among a few other traits of similar kind. The owners of these wands loathe violence and injustice, but are still capable of using force if need be. The fic I am referring to is this one: ** s/7136712/5/HP-TUTORIAL-1-WANDS-AND-WAND-CORES-OUT-OF-DATE **I was originally meaning for this chapter to be even longer, but it's already quite the mammoth, so I decided to leave it here. I hope you all enjoyed it! See you within the week!**


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